The room is quiet. Too quiet. So quiet that I can hear the ticking of a clock, or the passing of traffic on the highway a quarter mile away. I sit alone at my computer. Forgotten, a cigarette burns in my hand while my cold coffee sits on the desk. A cat paws at the door from the outside, just wanting to be let in from the cold. It's cold inside too. I continues to stare at the sceen, which has gone black. The power is out.
Maybe I should've payed the electric bill this week.
My hands begin to shake. They've been doing that a lot more lately. A tear wells up in my eye, then escapes and travels down the side of my cheek. The cat lets out a mournful cry. The cigarette begins to smolder in the overfull ashtray.
When did everything go wrong?
The wind howls oustide. Lightning flickers on the horizon as a gentle rain decends upon the street. A cell phone rings in the other room. Even after all that's happened, they still know where to find me. They still need me. I have nothing left to give them, yet they continue to beg and to plead. I wish I could help. I want to. The ashtray catches fire. I don't try to stop it.
It's beautiful.
The clock stops ticking. Traffic comes to a halt. I slowly sip the coffee as I watch the flames grow. There are too many lost dreams. Distant memories are fading. How can one person lose so much of the truth yet be so happy? The rain is pouring now. I miss the rain, and the lies, and the warmth. It's so cold.
I wish I could see the moon.
Thunder crashes, shaking the ground violently. Flames engulf the room in a hypnotic dance. My shallow breath catches in my throat. I can't see anymore. I can barely even think. I hope everyone will be okay. I know they will. I've done all I can. I need more coffee. Suddenly and brutally, everything goes quiet again.
I die.
