catharsis

(trying something new...)

The last number I see is 9:33. That is the last number to light up the bars of the cage, before the locks fail. The locks on my clock fail and time escapes, and then it shoots to my computer and breaks the little clock in there too. The numbers on the display turn to ash and fade. Time pulls itself out of the big wall clock downstairs, and the clock's hands droop pathetically, deprived of their stolen spark. Time is springing itself free from our prisons.

Your childhood bites you in the face, and your future melts like ice in the sun. The separation between events is failing. Your plans for tomorrow become your memories of yesterday and all the neat little boxes in your day planner turn to soup. All events and all possibilities occur at once, blurred together in a single tiny moment that never ends. There are no more ends and no more beginnings. Time has escaped our grasp and now hides in the shadows, recovering from the million tiny cuts left by the gears and hands of the ticking clocks. Time hides in the shadows and watches our stolen plastic world crumble under its own weight. Our deathgrip on reality is failing.