Time

It is 36 and I am late. Why am I late, one might wonder, and why '36' is an indicator. 36 is an increment of time measured by the length of shadows. After the collapse of civilization, the ticking stopped. The world is a quiet place now. No shadows rushing to meet one another; no laughter painting the air; no beings, save the sun. I have found none, anyway. There is nothing humane here, only soulless monsters. That is another story. At this very moment, I am very late.

As I watch the sun, my efforts seem laughable. The falling star coils a shadowed noose around my neck. 37, 38, 39. My shadow takes the night. Night brings no sight and even less hope. The stars are quiet now; the moon turned its face away in the end. It's as though God abandoned us, leaving only Satan's burning eye to keep watch of the madness. With night comes no comfort, no hope, no time.

I crave the ticking, the seconds rushing by with no notice. My watch still rests on my right wrist. Its hands frozen in place. 7:32. I wonder if that's the exact moment the world ended or the moment my world ended. I am nothing now.

I am growing hazy. My limbs are filled with lead. My eyelids slip closed and a sense of panic and discomfort clouds my mind. Needles prick my arms and invisible hands grip and pull at my body. My breath slips away and my mind goes dark.

I awake alone again. Again? I am always alone, but... Bubbles of laughter drip out of my mouth. My sanity is becoming questionable.

I push myself off of the ground and stand up. What happened to me? I can't remember. I glance at my watch. 7:32. Nothing has changed. I glance at my shadow and it tells me that it is 15. I need to move forward. I was asleep for longer than I meant to be and now half the day has slipped through the cracks.

My pace increases to a jog. At this point you're wondering where I'm headed. I'm going home. Home is the small cottage I was raised in with my 2 brothers. Home is the large tree with the tire dangling off of it. Home is all the memories...

The memories... Sharp pain shoots through my wrists. My eyes dart down to watch the blood spurt out through my open veins. Panic. Panic. Panic. I slip into the nothingness again.