Flash Fiction Friday #2
I realized that I started using fff as a journal tag for flash fiction Fridays, but that's not going to work, as other people already use that acronym. F3 sounds nice, so I'm going to use that instead.
Tick. Tick. Tick.
The ticking of the clock was driving me mad due to its repetitiveness,
and keeping me sane due to its brief interruptions of the silence that
oppressively filled the room. How it managed to do both of these at
the same time, I’ll never know, but it was doing them regardless.
I looked at Ciara, and she stared back at me. We both opened out
mouths to speak, but then the clock suddenly stopped ticking. We both
waited for a moment, waiting for that inevitable next tick, but one
never came.
What happened next would have no doubt been hilarious to anybody that
was watching us, but we were alone, so no one laughed as we closed out
mouths, turned our heads, and looked up at the clock, all in a
completely synchronized manner.
“Is it broken?” Ciara asked me, as if I should be able to tell by
looking at it. I’d always hated the way that she did that, asking
questions that I couldn’t possibly know the answer to. I didn’t
respond; instead, I reached up on my tiptoes and took the clock off of
the nail it was hanging on. I turned it over and looked at the back
for a moment before admitting that “I don’t even know what I’m
supposed to be looking at.”
“What about your watch?” she asked. “Do you have it with you?”
She knew that I did. I pulled it out of my pocket, my fingers
grazing over my initials. Ciara had had it engraved when she first
gave it to me. Five years ago, I think it was? Over those years,
I’ve learned a lot of things - not least of which was that this watch
was the only thing in my life I could depend on.
I pushed down on the button that kept the watch cover in place, and
brought it level to the clock from the wall. Both of them were
stopped at exactly 3:29.
“That’s weird,” I said. “What are the odds that they would both stop
at the same time?”
“Hell, what are the odds that they would be synchronized in the first
place?”
I’d always been horrible at math, so I had no answer for her.
Instead I started to ponder why this would have happened. While doing
so, I glanced out the window.
“It’s not just the clocks,” I announced breathlessly. Ciara came to
the window to see what I was talking about, and we both stared at the
stillness outside. Nothing was moving. People were stopped mid-
stride, cars were stopped mid-turn; even the water from the
neighbour’s hose had stopped moving. It looked as though someone had
pressed the PAUSE button on the universe.
“I guess we have time to have that talk after all,” Ciara said to me,
taking my hand in hers.
Tick. Tick. Tick.
The ticking of the clock was driving me mad due to its repetitiveness,
and keeping me sane due to its brief interruptions of the silence that
oppressively filled the room. How it managed to do both of these at
the same time, I’ll never know, but it was doing them regardless.
I looked at Ciara, and she stared back at me. We both opened out
mouths to speak, but then the clock suddenly stopped ticking. We both
waited for a moment, waiting for that inevitable next tick, but one
never came.
What happened next would have no doubt been hilarious to anybody that
was watching us, but we were alone, so no one laughed as we closed out
mouths, turned our heads, and looked up at the clock, all in a
completely synchronized manner.
“Is it broken?” Ciara asked me, as if I should be able to tell by
looking at it. I’d always hated the way that she did that, asking
questions that I couldn’t possibly know the answer to. I didn’t
respond; instead, I reached up on my tiptoes and took the clock off of
the nail it was hanging on. I turned it over and looked at the back
for a moment before admitting that “I don’t even know what I’m
supposed to be looking at.”
“What about your watch?” she asked. “Do you have it with you?”
She knew that I did. I pulled it out of my pocket, my fingers
grazing over my initials. Ciara had had it engraved when she first
gave it to me. Five years ago, I think it was? Over those years,
I’ve learned a lot of things - not least of which was that this watch
was the only thing in my life I could depend on.
I pushed down on the button that kept the watch cover in place, and
brought it level to the clock from the wall. Both of them were
stopped at exactly 3:29.
“That’s weird,” I said. “What are the odds that they would both stop
at the same time?”
“Hell, what are the odds that they would be synchronized in the first
place?”
I’d always been horrible at math, so I had no answer for her.
Instead I started to ponder why this would have happened. While doing
so, I glanced out the window.
“It’s not just the clocks,” I announced breathlessly. Ciara came to
the window to see what I was talking about, and we both stared at the
stillness outside. Nothing was moving. People were stopped mid-
stride, cars were stopped mid-turn; even the water from the
neighbour’s hose had stopped moving. It looked as though someone had
pressed the PAUSE button on the universe.
“I guess we have time to have that talk after all,” Ciara said to me,
taking my hand in hers.