4:32 am
It woke me up in the middle of the night, a sudden burst of light and a sound that ripped me out of whatever dreams had hold of me
7:17 am
I heard it again, but this time I wasn't sure if it was in my head or outside. I kept my eyes closed this time.
11:40 am
Another day, another watch of the clock's revolution
12:11 pm
Lunch tastes of sour disappointment, loathing steeped against bitter apathy
12:38 pm
Janice talks to Doreen about a vacation she took. Some mountain adventure, an endeavor away from here in a foreign land. I yearn for such transience. To hear the voices of strangers and my mind intercepts none of the words sliding out of them.
1:01 pm
so tired so tired so tired so tired so tired so tired so tired so tired I hear it again so tired so tired so tired so tired so tired so tired so tired so tired so very tired
1:45 pm
The sound of the fax machine is like a port, it breaks up the monotony and I know someone new is here, or something anyway. A sheet of paper declaring some doctrine, a new missive for the masses. It destroys the ebb and flow of the day. I don't know if I hate the fax machine, if I abhor it, if I reject its very existence, or if I absolutely adore it and need it to function day by day.
3:07 pm
The hours melt, as though we are table salt against a thunder storm. Swept up, carried and absorbed, the clock its own void, the maw be the hours of the day. 9 to 5 exists like an eldritch monster.
4:82 pm
I could be mistaken, but there is a surreal crackle in the air. Scent of ozone, disarray, entropy creeps its way into my thoughts as though I imagine the universe. My conscience come creation, my body bringeth barren. Through ruin, I am reborn.
5:00 pm
Free. Not a moment sooner, not a moment later. Now, heralding in the new stage of the day, the next rung of adulthood; earned respite. For some of us, it lasts moments. For some of us, it never comes at all. For some of us still, we've found the ticket to significant amounts. Some of us have a life left to live and in it entirely respite from this menial cycle, a coil within a coil. I am not of that caliber, I am not lost in the maze either, I am simply standard. I am Accountant #383,659, 213. Like my mother and father before me.
11:02 pm
I have no recollection of time's motion. Perhaps today was good, I could not say one way or the other. It does not linger on my body or on my mind, perhaps that is a victory in itself.
2:58 am
My eyes locked, refused to open to perceive the light or whatever is its source. But I heard it again. I can't return to another slumbering pit and miss its return. It did return last time.
6:09 am
Several hours ink by after I observed it. It wasn't long from its first appearance. But oh how I wish I did not take it in. The dead took life, leather became flesh, meal became bone and that became sinew. The clouds returned to the rivers, the grass became seeds again. I have no words. It was like nothing else I'd seen before and likely nothing I'll see again.
8:37 am
Another day approaches, my mind still in ruinous collapse from the calamity.
9:50 am
YOU ARE READING
Lines
RandomA mess of stuff that won't fit elsewhere. Some are pretty absurdist, no direct continuity unless stated (doubtful on that, these are meant to be one-off poems/stories). I like to explore different styles of writing in small works like this, so some...
