Thursday, 20 April 2017

Quality Time by David Shakes

Steph and I are in discussions about an Infernal Clock competition of some sort. Writing to tie in to the whole IC theme. Going back through my own archives, I thought this piece was a nice example of something that may exist in the IC world:


The clock on the mantle wheezes each interminable second.

The kitchen tap drips infrequently.

There's no rhythm here.

Everything's shrouded, not just you – the familiar coverings of dust and doilies.

Echoes of my last visit, only it's me who’s now sat motionless in the armchair.

Across the room your sightless stare takes in the patterns on the nicotine stained ceiling.

Outside, in the first rays of dawn, I hear the clink of milk bottles on the doorstep.

Such a small sound, yet there's been no milk round here for years.

You whisper, 'Go home now.' 

I can't go yet.


No comments:

Post a Comment

Infernal Flash Competition - Third Place

Welcome back to our Infernal Countdown. The hands crawl across the face of time, the slightest movement, always in one direction, never to g...