End of the Clock

Trifecta Writing Challenge Week: 110

"End of the Clock"

The air in the cell was thick, as was the icing on my doughnut. 

I will savor this last request, I thought, I will savor every bite. 

It’s a quaint feeling, watching the warning-red second hand of the clock make its rounds, knowing every tick it makes depletes one second off your last hour of life.  Every precise, robotic move it made, the doughnut tasted better.  And when it was gone, there was nothing left to do, nothing to do but watch that relentless second hand.

The good thing about watching a clock is that time seems to slow.  And I couldn’t think of a more appropriate situation for time to dawdle. 

It sounds ludicrous to watch the clock, counting down the last minutes of your consciousness, but thoughts of my death weren’t on my mind.  I was watching that red hand trail around the white face, only recalling memories; remembering that every time that hand made a move in the past I was fulfilled, that every second of my life I lived with no regrets.

What better way to live?

The death bell tolled, tearing me from my nostalgic daydreams.  The inevitable reality snuck back up on me like a sucker punch. 

Regretless is the only way to leave this world.  No regrets about anything, including the very recent choices that landed me such an intense sentence. 

Life was full and beautiful and fast.  Hopefully death will be just as swift. 

The thought is consuming, though I know I shouldn’t think of it in my last minutes.  They’re coming to release me from these bars as well as this life, and I should find a happier place for my thoughts to mingle until that last second is sliced and I’m submerged into an inky void—just another shadow. 

Luckily for me death is just that, death.