Hoka Hei

I woke up as I usually do. The sweet, springtime sun shone through my thick windows, illuminating my face. There were marks on my cheeks and arms from laying so long in the same position. I was happy with it; it signified how well I slept. Getting dressed, I hummed nice tunes from my neurological library and then ate an apple. The day felt nice. Real nice.
At his usual time, Randall honked his horn at my house and I walked out a few seconds later. Whoa, the air felt nice. I got in the passenger seat, as I usually did, Randall shifted the gears to D, as he usually did after I sat down, and we drove off to school. At some point on our way, Rand turned the radio down and he said to me, “You know, kid, today’s a good day to die."
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I’ve had a few days like that. They were unusual, but they were so damn nice.