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Tick-Tock MAG
A single, hanging light lit the draftyroom. Shaped like a triangle, it cast a shadow onto the floor,but the floor reached beyond the circle of light. Dark wallsstretched up to a high ceiling filled with cobwebs. The roomhad a single door.
TICK-TOCK ... TICK-TOCK ...TICK-TOCK.
To the right a clock hung, counting out eachhour, minute and second of every day.
It was covered ingray dust, too thick to simply push away. Years of neglectwere apparent.
This room, like so many others, had beenforgotten with the appearance of new machines and largerlounges. The light went on with all the others. Windowlesswith tall walls and a cement floor, there was nothing invitingabout it. It was hated by most and avoided by all. Untilnow.
The large door creaked open. New light drowned thefloor, casting a dark shadow.
Covered in dirt, andgleaming with sweat, a man stepped in. His white shirt hadturned brown and black from the machines in the other rooms.His jeans had stains and holes.
The man walked directlyto the clock. He pulled open the cover.
TICK-TOCK ...TICK-TOCK ... TICK-TOCK.
Carefully, he searched throughthe wires, looking for only one.
TICK-TOCK ...TICK-TOCK ... TICK-TOCK.
A smile spread across his faceas he found what he was looking for.
TICK-TOCK ...TICK-TOCK ...
With a pair of scissors, he cut the wire.
The tick-tock stopped.
The light went dark.
The door closed.
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This article has 3 comments.
Way to say something rude YUIA >:(
I liked your writing and the oddy compelling picture that it makes me see. Just wished you'd space out your words right and maybe make it longer. Like the implied idea of stopping time though!
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