Short Stories

Tick Tock

Tick tock.

I sit on the edge of the window pane, my legs dangling outside. Tonight, the darkness besieges me with a greater force.  Fourteen stories up, I know no one can sense my fear. 

Tick tock.

Is it midnight? I can’t tell. I’m too engrossed in a conversation with my silent partner.  The flow of thoughts in this exchange is exhilarating.

Tick tock.

They say that the darkest phase of the night comes in the hours preceding dawn. Is that true? Where is my sunrise?

Tick tock.

I find myself fascinated by the oddest of sensations. The smooth granite I rest my hands on seems to emit the most peculiar sort of sound when I tap on it.  It almost sound like a raindrop teetering down a window on a rainy day. The air under my bare feet feels rough and disturbed. I think it’s trying to get somewhere.

Tick tock.

My mouth is dry from talking too much. I love talking around my friend. He seems to understand everything I say, although I can never be sure, because he hasn’t ever responded to me through words yet.

Tick tock.

My friend likes the soothing sound of the wind on a silent night. I can only talk to him on such nights. It’s when he is in his softest, most innocuous of forms.

Tick tock.

My friend is my only companion. I cannot fathom life without him. After all, what good is light, if all I have ever seen is darkness?

Tick tock.

I wonder about the color of light. I wonder about the color of my face when I’m in a fiery rage.  What is the color of rage? Is it anything like the color of the nothingness I have been betrothed to?

Tick tock.

I smile at my companion and I hope he sees it. I’ve been told smiles light up the world. I smile each time, hoping it will light up mine.

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