Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.
I squirm on the cold leather seat as an algid chill races down my spine, erecting goosebumps on my milky skin. I have never felt as tense in my entire lifetime. My anxiety irradiates the room like an eternal fire.
Suddenly, a strident sound rings in my ear.
“Number 98457629. Incompetent. Beginning removal.”
My heart thunders as my body freezes.
“No,” I whisper. “There must be some sort of mistake!”
Mechanical limbs surround me, and I feel a razor-sharp prick in my arm.
I struggle to grasp something, anything, but all I see are the stars.
5 Comments
ANSON REYNOLDS
the last line. hsdbchajl oaefbcnwe
this is fantabulous, wonderful job.
Bhavya's Treasure
You set the atmosphere so starkly!
and the last line reminded me of the cartoons where they actually show the stars spinning around a person's head.
~wildflower~
Oh, I just love this! You have created such intense emotion in so few words, and I’m amazed at how connected I felt to the character when I had only just met them. I think your powerful and specific word choices were a key factor in achieving these things. Love it!
(p.s. the image of “bubble tea and reading+writing during rainy evenings” makes me feel so happy! Thanks for that!)
BlueWolf (Semi Hiatus)
NOOOOO.... not Number 98457629!!!! :( I love this piece. It conveys so much in 100 words. I feel really connected to the character. I want more!!!! :3
mindfruit
oooh, very nice story! I love how mysterious it is XD