CaptainWacky
I want to smell dark matter
He waited. He waited and waited until what he thought felt like ten minutes had passed. He looked at the clock and felt a perverse, dark feeling of satisfaction when he saw it had only been four minutes. He stared deep into the number, trying to make them move faster, trying to make them dance. He'd made them dance before. Had he been awake? Had he managed to alter his perception of time? Or had it simply been a dream? He knew it was the latter, logically. But the madness inside him, the madness that ran his life, wanted to make sure. So he waited. One minute went by. He waited a full minute, no thoughts passing through his head, to see the clock change again. His life cold end like this, he thought. He could stare at this clock until he simply ceased to be. The clock would go on.
After a while he got tired. He felt himself dropping off. He fought it. The clock changed quicker. Or did it? Maybe he'd fallen asleep for part of the minute, then woken up just in time for the clock. He drifted again and again a minute was gone. He closed his eyes, reopened them, and another minute was gone. He was doing it! He was changing time. He tried it with his eyes open. It happened. The numbers danced. He'd done it! He was the master of time.
A noise outside. He sat up with a start, fully awake. He'd managed to make an hour dance away before his eyes. He opened the curtains a little and looked out. The milkmen. Maybe he should run out and jump on the back of the milk float and sail away with them into the night. They probably wouldn't like that. Maybe he could run after them, hiding behind bins. Maybe he could steal everyone's milk and become the king of milk. HAHAHA! He ran down the stairs in the pitch dark. He could have easily tripped on a cat and broken his neck but he knew he wouldn't. Not tonight. He stumpled into his kitchen, banging his arm loudly and painfully on the door. He laughed insanely. Wake them all up! Except there was nobody to wake. He opened the fridge door, took out a carton of milk and emptied it over his head. Then he ran for the front door, tripping over the rug as he did but getting up quickly, drooling from the mouth in his insanity. He unlocked the door and stepped out.
"I COMMAND TIME! I COMMAND MILK! I AM GOD!" he shouted. "I AM GOD!" It was snowing. He had made it snow. Even though it already lay on the ground, he had made it happen. He rolled around in the snow, laughing. It was his. His domain. He was completely naked and he owned the snow. He must cover himself in it, he decided. He dived into next door's garden. More snow. MORE! He started eating it. He ate some stones too. He ate grass. He bit his neighbours car then laughed. He dived into the next garden, rolling in the snow. He didn't feel the cold anymore. All he felt was joy.
Seven hours later he was loaded up into the back of an ambulance.
"You're going to be okay," said an ambulanceman. "Don't worry."
What did he have to worry about? He was making all this happen with his mind.
After a while he got tired. He felt himself dropping off. He fought it. The clock changed quicker. Or did it? Maybe he'd fallen asleep for part of the minute, then woken up just in time for the clock. He drifted again and again a minute was gone. He closed his eyes, reopened them, and another minute was gone. He was doing it! He was changing time. He tried it with his eyes open. It happened. The numbers danced. He'd done it! He was the master of time.
A noise outside. He sat up with a start, fully awake. He'd managed to make an hour dance away before his eyes. He opened the curtains a little and looked out. The milkmen. Maybe he should run out and jump on the back of the milk float and sail away with them into the night. They probably wouldn't like that. Maybe he could run after them, hiding behind bins. Maybe he could steal everyone's milk and become the king of milk. HAHAHA! He ran down the stairs in the pitch dark. He could have easily tripped on a cat and broken his neck but he knew he wouldn't. Not tonight. He stumpled into his kitchen, banging his arm loudly and painfully on the door. He laughed insanely. Wake them all up! Except there was nobody to wake. He opened the fridge door, took out a carton of milk and emptied it over his head. Then he ran for the front door, tripping over the rug as he did but getting up quickly, drooling from the mouth in his insanity. He unlocked the door and stepped out.
"I COMMAND TIME! I COMMAND MILK! I AM GOD!" he shouted. "I AM GOD!" It was snowing. He had made it snow. Even though it already lay on the ground, he had made it happen. He rolled around in the snow, laughing. It was his. His domain. He was completely naked and he owned the snow. He must cover himself in it, he decided. He dived into next door's garden. More snow. MORE! He started eating it. He ate some stones too. He ate grass. He bit his neighbours car then laughed. He dived into the next garden, rolling in the snow. He didn't feel the cold anymore. All he felt was joy.
Seven hours later he was loaded up into the back of an ambulance.
"You're going to be okay," said an ambulanceman. "Don't worry."
What did he have to worry about? He was making all this happen with his mind.