Tick-Tock

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He could hear the ticking echo through his ears. When the minute hand moved he felt the stinging in his heart which grew stronger and stronger. He knew he was running out of time.

His breath felt like thunder, shaking in his bones. Each step he ran was a race against the hour hand.

Tick.

The pain in his chest brought red dots to his eyes. Stumbling on the pavement he kept on because he knew he had no time.

Collapsing inside their cage, his lungs began to cave. Every breath was forced and shallow. The doubt began to fill in the hollow thoughts. Would he make it?

Tock.

He lost his breath. The pain spread from his chest like a virus. The world before him began to blur. Like a blind man he kept forwards. His feet like cement, the effort to keep moving torturous. His whole body ached, but he could not stop now.

Tick.

A cry escaped his lips. Everything was cloaked in darkness. He was so close. Nearly there. But time keeps ticking and his end was near.

Just move forward. Don’t give in.

Tock.

His heart began to beat in time with the second hand. Each heartbeat roared in his head. His rib cage tightened, restricting his lungs, and crushing his heart. No longer could he continue on as his legs buckled underneath hisย weight.

Her arms reached for him, but she was too late. By the time she revealed the watchย attachedย to his chest, the hour and minute hand ticked together as he let out his last breath.

With a sob she took the device in her hand and removed the brass watch from his flesh. The golden numbers spread around the face was covered with a brass rib-cage.

Just a little something I cooked up after this week’s picture it & write photo. Check it out!

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14 thoughts on “Tick-Tock

  1. I felt like I had to read quickly, in case the clock would punish me too! Great structural choice. This feels like it could be the beginning to a greater story. ๐Ÿ™‚ Thanks for contributing this week!

    – Ermisenda

  2. “By the time she revealed the watchย attachedย to his chest, the hour and minute hand ticked together as he let out his last breath.”
    -I thought this part was pure poetry. The strangeness of the hour and minute hand working together seemed to convey that something different had begun.

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