Flash Fiction, Shorts

El Fin

The nights are getting longer and  I’m chasing after every hour  watching the hands go round wondering when I’ll be blessed with the lifted consciousness, and that sweet enveloping velvety blanket of black. Feeling slap happy now. More like slap crappy. Get it? Ha. Ha. Feeling more like happiness is a warm gun. And what does  a gun do but wait to be fired again? When I read this again in the morning I’ll laugh. When I read this again in the morning I’ll cry. 

Lilith stopped writing and stared at the monitor. The bluish glow was the only light in the room. The analog clock in the bottom right corner of the screen read 3:17. A glass of something dark sat on the desk. She took a sip with a grimace and lifted her fingers once again to the keyboard.

When I read this again I’ll think I should die. But I won’t let myself sleep until I finally know why. The world around me is quiet and it all stays the same, while I sit and rhyme words alone with my game. 

Finished. El fin. The fin of a fish. Lay back your head with a wisp of a wish.

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