Awake: 11:30pm
There had never been such a time like this time, not for me. At the time I could not sleep, step by step the old wood moaned of pressure on the floor. The stairs they creaked and sank with every step of my aching feet so worn from days gone by. The sigh of the house's failing frame in the midnight wind was a maddening sound which blistered in my ears. Still, there was no sound more ominous, more cunning, more insistent, more maddening than the ticking clock as its hands moved slowly forward. So, I wandered into the living room where I had sat myself a thousand times and lived a thousand lives through reminiscing stories of the ages, and there I checked the time. 11:30.
YOU ARE READING
Death Becomes Us
Short StoryA man finds himself unable to sleep one night. Driven mad and terrified by the endless march of time, he is greeted by an unexpected yet long awaited visitor. [A Short sense of Gothic Horror with a touch of gripping reality for your thoughts and for...
