The gears of the clock clicked and murmured as the hundreds of tiny voices came together to form a larger identity. The giant contraption whispered to me as the clock’s gears reflected the shallow moonlight.
“Any question you can think of,” the machine had whispered to me. “Any question at all.” The whole world lay at my fingertips: past, present and future. It was a gift of such magnitude as to be unimaginable to the pedestrian person. The Iron King had warned me of the consequences of asking profound question, things that I couldn’t handle.
The gears shifted and whirred, flying with the speed of a thousand builders.
“You have two days.”
I stumbled backward clutching at my throat as if I could feel my life ebbing away. Two days. I have two days. Two days to live all my dreams. Two days to change the world. I jumped forward and pounded the gear with my fists, accomplishing nothing but opening my hand from a sharp point. I’m an idiot. I thought as I bashed my head into the gear. A red haze settled across my vision and everything went black...
...I awoke to the sound of birds chirping, a seemingly inappropriate cacophony of sounds based on current circumstances. I held my hands in front of me, wondering if it was actually possible that I would die in two days. Then again, the clock had never been wrong before, why start now? I grimaced as I stood, gazing down from the clock tower at the small village where I’d always lived. My car was still crookedly parked where I had left it, between two spaces, a result of the temporary insanity that had driven me here. I rose quickly and was instantly assaulted by a splitting headache that left me incapable of remaining standing. After the headache had dissipated, I slowly rose to my feet, the headache once again resuming, but not with the same severity.
I made my way down the long flight of steps with the intricate railing in the shape of swirling gears. They appeared so life-like that I expected them to fly off at any moment. I reached the bottom of the steps and strode out into the morning sunlight. I squinted as I made my way to my car, getting inside and turning the key to the ignition. I heard the roar of the car as it came to life. I pulled out of the abandoned parking lot and made my way to the exit, pausing as I reached the turn.
“Look, time will tell, but I want you to be warned ahead of time.” I kept trying to tell him. I couldn’t blame him, I would be equally incredulous if I was told this tale. It was noon of the second day, there was little or no chance of actually convincing Andy until I was dead, and I won’t even be able to say I could you so, I lamented silently.
“If it is true than you shouldn’t be here! We need to keep you as safe as possible.” Andy pointed out.
“Not a chance! I plan on enjoying my last hours, not being cramped in some box.” I pointed toward the door, “Would you like to go on a walk?”
Andy looked at me like I had gone nuts. Then again, I suppose I had. “Suit yourself.” I replied and strode through the double doors of our business. I followed the path along Main Street heading toward the park on the corner of Restive Ave. and Main Street. How fitting, I thought as I followed the flow of the pedestrian traffic. As I watched, hundreds of faces passed by, a multitude of colors, but especially black. I had never noticed the hundreds before. I was always too busy contemplating the future. But I don’t have a future anymore. Only the present. Why do we love black so much? It’s such a mournful color, so depressing. Why do we not live in color while we can? I presently found myself at the park, and enjoyed the sunlight warming my skin. I found a bench and collapsed on it, enjoying the warm sunny afternoon.
It was then that I spotted it. A black limo had started to swerve. As I watched, everything seemed to slow down, moving at the pace of a snail. My personal death hearse flew onto the sidewalk, taking out a mailbox in slow motion. Letters flew in the air before my eyes. If I hadn’t been about to die, it would have been really cool. The car drew nearer and nearer every second, I could even smell the fumes as it rolled toward. I’m sorry Janice. Then, in the blink of the eye, everything sped up again, I was slammed by the limo and all I saw was a bright white light.
“Any question you can think of,” the machine had whispered to me. “Any question at all.” The whole world lay at my fingertips: past, present and future. It was a gift of such magnitude as to be unimaginable to the pedestrian person. The Iron King had warned me of the consequences of asking profound question, things that I couldn’t handle.
It mocked me. Weak. Powerless.
When I was younger the questions to ask had been easy, I solved math homework, peered into girls’ thoughts, and even the right career path. But now I was older, stronger, more mature. I doubted my current outer attire would convince anyone of these things. My reflection shone off of one of the metallic gears, a Caucasian business man with a ragged white shirt, torn blacks pants, and an askew tie.
I looked like I’d lost my mind.
But hadn’t I?
Two days till a life of happiness, I had been so close to what I had always wanted. Then I’d done it. I had to ask another question.
“Why her!” I screeched at the metallic monster.
“You know why,” the clicking reply came back.
Caution is gone. I chuckled insanely. Throw it to the wind? It got buried in a grave.
I brought myself face-to-metal with the head gear of the ancient clock and braced myself.
“How long do I have to live?” I asked it, scorn etched in every crack of my broken voice.The gears shifted and whirred, flying with the speed of a thousand builders.
“You have two days.”
I stumbled backward clutching at my throat as if I could feel my life ebbing away. Two days. I have two days. Two days to live all my dreams. Two days to change the world. I jumped forward and pounded the gear with my fists, accomplishing nothing but opening my hand from a sharp point. I’m an idiot. I thought as I bashed my head into the gear. A red haze settled across my vision and everything went black...
...I awoke to the sound of birds chirping, a seemingly inappropriate cacophony of sounds based on current circumstances. I held my hands in front of me, wondering if it was actually possible that I would die in two days. Then again, the clock had never been wrong before, why start now? I grimaced as I stood, gazing down from the clock tower at the small village where I’d always lived. My car was still crookedly parked where I had left it, between two spaces, a result of the temporary insanity that had driven me here. I rose quickly and was instantly assaulted by a splitting headache that left me incapable of remaining standing. After the headache had dissipated, I slowly rose to my feet, the headache once again resuming, but not with the same severity.
I made my way down the long flight of steps with the intricate railing in the shape of swirling gears. They appeared so life-like that I expected them to fly off at any moment. I reached the bottom of the steps and strode out into the morning sunlight. I squinted as I made my way to my car, getting inside and turning the key to the ignition. I heard the roar of the car as it came to life. I pulled out of the abandoned parking lot and made my way to the exit, pausing as I reached the turn.
Where to go now? I thought as I stood at the fork in the road. To the left lead to the road of self-indulgence. Maybe a lonely bar, last nights spent in revelry. The right lead to a funeral, Janice’s the love of my life. Indulgence in grief, in fear, and in struggling through explanations.
I lifted my foot off the brake and turned the wheel...
---------------
I groaned as I attempted to explain how I knew I would die to Andy for the 15th time. Andy was the hardest to convince of anyone. “A clock, that knows everything? He’s clearly suffering from grief trauma.”“Look, time will tell, but I want you to be warned ahead of time.” I kept trying to tell him. I couldn’t blame him, I would be equally incredulous if I was told this tale. It was noon of the second day, there was little or no chance of actually convincing Andy until I was dead, and I won’t even be able to say I could you so, I lamented silently.
“If it is true than you shouldn’t be here! We need to keep you as safe as possible.” Andy pointed out.
“Not a chance! I plan on enjoying my last hours, not being cramped in some box.” I pointed toward the door, “Would you like to go on a walk?”
Andy looked at me like I had gone nuts. Then again, I suppose I had. “Suit yourself.” I replied and strode through the double doors of our business. I followed the path along Main Street heading toward the park on the corner of Restive Ave. and Main Street. How fitting, I thought as I followed the flow of the pedestrian traffic. As I watched, hundreds of faces passed by, a multitude of colors, but especially black. I had never noticed the hundreds before. I was always too busy contemplating the future. But I don’t have a future anymore. Only the present. Why do we love black so much? It’s such a mournful color, so depressing. Why do we not live in color while we can? I presently found myself at the park, and enjoyed the sunlight warming my skin. I found a bench and collapsed on it, enjoying the warm sunny afternoon.
---------------
It was almost time. I could feel it. My gut was tugging at me as the sunlight started to dwindle. Death was coming. I wonder if this is how it is for others, or if it’s just because I already know. I grimaced as the tugging became more severe and I prepared myself. I walked over to the straight, watching the hundreds of people driving along on their business, perhaps to a waiting friend for dinner at the Chapa de Lero. In spite of the situation, I smiled, remembering the summer evenings spent with Janice, discussing everything from cheese to my job.It was then that I spotted it. A black limo had started to swerve. As I watched, everything seemed to slow down, moving at the pace of a snail. My personal death hearse flew onto the sidewalk, taking out a mailbox in slow motion. Letters flew in the air before my eyes. If I hadn’t been about to die, it would have been really cool. The car drew nearer and nearer every second, I could even smell the fumes as it rolled toward. I’m sorry Janice. Then, in the blink of the eye, everything sped up again, I was slammed by the limo and all I saw was a bright white light.
(This is my flash fiction story. =) )
0 Tid-Bits:
Post a Comment