Tick-Tock

Sometimes the perfect post just comes to you wholly conceived. Sometimes you have to drag it out, word by word, as it clings desperately to your insides. And sometimes you come back to your GChat window after being away at a meeting, and the perfect blog post is waiting for you in the chat window...

"When Martin left his house that morning, he didn't think anything was amiss. Why would he? He was awake, he was trim, and he had a four minute commute - walking - to work. Nothing could go wrong.

Settling into his chair, Martin turned on his computer, the warm hum buzzing pleasantly in the background. Idle chatter surrounded him, comments about sports teams and television shows wafting through the air. He sipped from his trusty mug. This was a good start to his day.

Only...

What was that feeling he had? Foreboding? Fear? It felt like someone was around him, breathing, sensing him. He glanced around, saw nothing. But the feeling continued - creeping fingers up his back the scratch of a paranoid cat, a dying woman clutching his pants leg as a pitchfork protruded from her back. Did someone have the air conditioning on? Was it cold? It felt like winter but worse... dark and endless, like he was falling into a hole with no bottom... a sideless, bottomless hole, empty save for one thing.

Enjoy it while you can, Martin, Death whispered, her voice the sound of the fading of stars and the slowing of time. You play your game. Score as many points as you can. Try to win.

At the end, it doesn't matter what the score is. At the end, I still win... and you will lie cold in the ground until people forget you, and time erases your words and works, and you are left only the worms.

Martin sat up with a start, his chair sounding on the carpet. He took in the common scene in front of him, sweat beaded on his forehead, trying to slow his breathing. Only a dream. He must have fallen asleep. It must have been a while, as his screen saver was on, displaying its usual scenes of stairs and clocks.

He stared at the screen, his breath stopping. One of the clocks was going much, much faster than normal. He watched it, the minute hand going around in seconds, the hour hand moving with visible motion around the numbers. Had it always done this, and he just hadn't seen it to now? He moved the mouse, and the screen saver vanished, revealing his Microsoft Word document. Wow, that had been odd. Had he fallen asleep in that way before, in that much of a terror before? He didn't -

There were words on the paper.

Tick-tock, Martin, they read. Tick-tock. Tick-tock.

Tick-tock."

-Mat C.
http://matblog7.blogspot.com
(if you don't check out this blog you are either an inanimate object or a retarded sea anemone. -Martin)