Meanderings of a broken mind
It’s stupid. It’s crazy, but then so am I. If I hadn’t been insane before everyone vanished, I would be now from the loneliness. There’s a big difference between being a solitary creature and being forced into solitude. I’ve been an outcast, the square peg, my entire life, but this is different. My life has fallen into a routine as regular as the clocks ticking around my apartment. The apartment that I reclaimed as my own after so long when I could have moved into another. It wasn’t as if there was anyone to bitch about me squatting, but I wanted familiar. I sure as shit couldn’t go to Virginia’s. The last thing I wanted was to relive her death.
Hers was the worst of all, and it was one of a handful of my twisted fucked up memories that was loud and clear. No, I would not be moving into her place when I ran out of room for clocks and books in this one.
My shop was long gone. In its place was a Chinese take out. Gray & Sons was no more. Gone were the clocks and my beautiful windows. The stink of mildew was still there though under the lingering aroma of Chinese Five Spice and soy sauce.
So I sat in my apartment with the walls covered in books and clocks. The walls were painted red, and I’d left a hand print in the gory paint on the back of the door to remember what I’d done here because of Elle. Because of Noah. Because I was weak and evil.
What kind of fucked up god leaves me to be the last man on Earth? Shouldn’t Peter be the One? Everyone loved Peter. Everyone hated me. Nothing made sense. It never would again. I tried to concentrate on the watch that I was putting together. That was my life-fix a watch, read a book, eat something out of a can, fix a clock, read a book. It was all so futile.
Then there was a sound from outside. There were no birds, no rats or cats or horns. There hadn’t been a sound in years. I put down the watch, knocking a few cogs off the worktable. Normally I’d rush to find them, but not this time. I had to find out where the noise was coming from. I nearly tore the lining out of my coat in my haste to put it on as I raced out of the building and into the street.
Hers was the worst of all, and it was one of a handful of my twisted fucked up memories that was loud and clear. No, I would not be moving into her place when I ran out of room for clocks and books in this one.
My shop was long gone. In its place was a Chinese take out. Gray & Sons was no more. Gone were the clocks and my beautiful windows. The stink of mildew was still there though under the lingering aroma of Chinese Five Spice and soy sauce.
So I sat in my apartment with the walls covered in books and clocks. The walls were painted red, and I’d left a hand print in the gory paint on the back of the door to remember what I’d done here because of Elle. Because of Noah. Because I was weak and evil.
What kind of fucked up god leaves me to be the last man on Earth? Shouldn’t Peter be the One? Everyone loved Peter. Everyone hated me. Nothing made sense. It never would again. I tried to concentrate on the watch that I was putting together. That was my life-fix a watch, read a book, eat something out of a can, fix a clock, read a book. It was all so futile.
Then there was a sound from outside. There were no birds, no rats or cats or horns. There hadn’t been a sound in years. I put down the watch, knocking a few cogs off the worktable. Normally I’d rush to find them, but not this time. I had to find out where the noise was coming from. I nearly tore the lining out of my coat in my haste to put it on as I raced out of the building and into the street.