Stuff Slasher Saw

It was as it time stopped, but kept moving. I could hear the clock on the mantle, tick, tick, tick, tick. But it had nothing to do with me.

Nether did the sunshine, nor the room I was in, or even the chair I sat in. They, and the ticking of the clock belonged somewhere else, with some other girl.

Wasn’t hear.

I was nowhere, holding a letter with an army post mark..

Tick, tick, tick.

But the clock was still going, and somehow the sun was still shinning.

Tick, tick, tick.

It was then I started to cry.

I had cried before. Cried when my bag was taken, cried when my canary had flown away, even cried when I didn’t know why I was sad.

I had cried when he told me he had to go. But I had never cried like this.

Before there had been some control, big tears and quit, almost known existent sobs. This was splitting, as if I was splitting from my mouth out- wards, ever second finding more and more pain in side.