He resented the orb.
He finally awoke.
He slowly rose up.
He let his body hang in front of him.
He stood like this for a while.
He didn't do much.
He seemed to had given up.
He had failed so many times before.
He must have seen no point in trying.
He slumped his back forward.
He felt around for the object.
He dragged his hands around the blackness.
He felt his fingers grasp the metal.
He leaned back.
He had found it, once again.
He felt the coldness and felt at ease.
He held it in his palms happily.
He felt like this was it.
He tightened his grip on the thing.
He raised his arm, with it in hand.
He felt the tears trickle down his fat cheeks.
He was crying.
He was crying, but they were tears of joy.
He was finally going to leave this place.
He looked up from his arm.
He shook at the sight of the drop.
He knew this drop way too well.
He knew what was to come next.
He knew the pattern.
He focused back onto his arm.
He wanted nothing to do with the droplets.
He tightened his grip on the metal.
He felt his hand tremble.
He saw the droplets again.
He saw them increase in size.
He saw the amount of them increase.
He closed his eyes.
He didn't want to see them.
He knew what they brought.
He knew exactly what they had done before.
He felt the coldness around him whither.
He knew what they were doing now.
He knew he couldn't let them do it again.
YOU ARE READING
The Hole
Short StoryA very, very short story. It's in this weird perspective and I never have written anything like it so I would like to consider it very experimental. I enjoyed it and hope to hear what you thought it was about/feedback. (I don't know why I think I'...
