Third and 10 down by four at Lambeau Field in the drizzling rain... two minutes left. There's nothing like that.
Northern Ireland are ten minutes away from their finest victory. There's 15 minutes to go here.
I was born too late to experience Apollo 11, though I do trek to Dad's house every time there's some space event. There's something awesome about crossing your fingers and watching a tense Mission Control room do their thing.
When the light is right and everything is working for me, I feel as tense as when making a difficult maneuver high on a mountain. A minute - and sometimes mere seconds - can make the difference between a superb image and a mundane one.
A short story is. . .frequently the celebration of character at bursting point.
Directly above them, framed in the doorway from the Brain Room, stood Albus Dumbledore, his wand aloft, his face white and furious. Harry felt a kind of electric charge surge through every particle of his body - they were saved.
Good-night, my-" He stopped, bit his lip, and abruptly left me.
I'm almost there, almost to the barricade, when I thinks she hears me. Because for just a moment, she catches sight of me, her lips form my name. And that's when the rest of the parachutes go off.
