Status: ticking
The Watch and the Heart
tick-tick-ticking
Clouds hung low in the sky over the wind-rippled lake, holding back the sun but not its heat. It was only due to the wind that the air was so cool, so refreshing; the man standing upon the shore was glad for that. It was a nice change from the painfully hot air elsewhere. He gazed out over the water silently, his entire body still except for the hair that was tossed restlessly back and forth atop his head. His eyes gleamed. With two slender fingers, he pulled out the watch that he wore around his neck and examined it, cautious but still confident.
2:14.
His lips drew into a knowing smile, and his feet shuffled slightly on the damp sand, making only the tiniest of imprints into its cool surface. The watch slipped back down his shirt, and once again he could feel it tick-tick-ticking alongside his heart. He had always wondered why they never decided to pick up the same rhythm; the watch found one beat and the heart another tick. All the same, he could feel their pattern. He stepped forward, gazing at the transluscent water that galloped hungrily toward his feet. Farther out across the lake, it turned greenish, then deep blue, before fading into an intimidating, foggy oblivion.
2:20.
The breeze shifted to the south, whipping his clothing more violently about him, but he hardly noticed. His eyes were locked with a slightly starved fervor on the horizon; his lips were parched by the violent, humid wind. A dog barked far away, and then began to howl, yipping and yodeling at an absurdly high pitch. An ambulance whizzed by, far away on the road, and he heard only the most desperate of its straining cries. His mind took in all of these sounds but ignored them, choosing to focus instead on the shushing of the tremulous lake and the crunch of his boots as he rocked back and forth on his feet.
2:32.
The man began to finger the watch again, popping open its case and then closing it once more, holding it up to his ear and listening to its steady sound, tapping his fingers against the smooth crystal of its face and examining the perfection of the Roman numerals marking its moments. The watch ignored him fervently. Carrying on with their usual pattern, the watch and the heart conversed with tiny thuds and clicks and whispers of clockwork and rushing blood. All around them, the wind chattered with the mumbling lake, and the seabirds called to the rustling sand, and the clouds rumbled to the man, who, alone of all his surroundings, didn’t reply. Steadfast and smiling, he stretched his fingers, took out the watch once more, and checked the time.
2:37.
One foot lurched forward, and he hesitated for only the most undetectable of milliseconds before stepping again and again and again, his feets first slapping against the water’s surface and then slogging slowly through the waves. His hair fluttered back in the face of the caressing southbound wind. Inch by inch, he carried on into the water, his face still plastered in an immaculate smirk. The water twinkled with his reflections as the waves lapped up his knees, hips, and then waist. All of a sudden, it hit the watch, and the calm banter was interrupted. He felt it, but he didn’t show any emotion on his clear face, only a desire to continue, to flounder into oblivion. The watch was patient, and it allowed him to keep going, keeping up its most valiant effort to tick and tick and tell his time. And the heart stayed with it, casting out its thoughts through the water.
2:46 (though the watch could no longer tell).
His shoulders sank under the water, which was starting to feel cool around his legs as it soaked through his thick clothing. He was very far in, and growing ever deeper, weighed down by his own existence and the smooth metal of his watch. Finally, his mouth slid under, then his nose, and finally, his sparkling, cool eyes drifted underneath the surface and closed as he floated in a world of his own: a world of time, of hearts, of tick-tick-tickings cloaked in dark, pristine water that flowed apathetically around his sinking body; a world of endings.
2:14.
His lips drew into a knowing smile, and his feet shuffled slightly on the damp sand, making only the tiniest of imprints into its cool surface. The watch slipped back down his shirt, and once again he could feel it tick-tick-ticking alongside his heart. He had always wondered why they never decided to pick up the same rhythm; the watch found one beat and the heart another tick. All the same, he could feel their pattern. He stepped forward, gazing at the transluscent water that galloped hungrily toward his feet. Farther out across the lake, it turned greenish, then deep blue, before fading into an intimidating, foggy oblivion.
2:20.
The breeze shifted to the south, whipping his clothing more violently about him, but he hardly noticed. His eyes were locked with a slightly starved fervor on the horizon; his lips were parched by the violent, humid wind. A dog barked far away, and then began to howl, yipping and yodeling at an absurdly high pitch. An ambulance whizzed by, far away on the road, and he heard only the most desperate of its straining cries. His mind took in all of these sounds but ignored them, choosing to focus instead on the shushing of the tremulous lake and the crunch of his boots as he rocked back and forth on his feet.
2:32.
The man began to finger the watch again, popping open its case and then closing it once more, holding it up to his ear and listening to its steady sound, tapping his fingers against the smooth crystal of its face and examining the perfection of the Roman numerals marking its moments. The watch ignored him fervently. Carrying on with their usual pattern, the watch and the heart conversed with tiny thuds and clicks and whispers of clockwork and rushing blood. All around them, the wind chattered with the mumbling lake, and the seabirds called to the rustling sand, and the clouds rumbled to the man, who, alone of all his surroundings, didn’t reply. Steadfast and smiling, he stretched his fingers, took out the watch once more, and checked the time.
2:37.
One foot lurched forward, and he hesitated for only the most undetectable of milliseconds before stepping again and again and again, his feets first slapping against the water’s surface and then slogging slowly through the waves. His hair fluttered back in the face of the caressing southbound wind. Inch by inch, he carried on into the water, his face still plastered in an immaculate smirk. The water twinkled with his reflections as the waves lapped up his knees, hips, and then waist. All of a sudden, it hit the watch, and the calm banter was interrupted. He felt it, but he didn’t show any emotion on his clear face, only a desire to continue, to flounder into oblivion. The watch was patient, and it allowed him to keep going, keeping up its most valiant effort to tick and tick and tell his time. And the heart stayed with it, casting out its thoughts through the water.
2:46 (though the watch could no longer tell).
His shoulders sank under the water, which was starting to feel cool around his legs as it soaked through his thick clothing. He was very far in, and growing ever deeper, weighed down by his own existence and the smooth metal of his watch. Finally, his mouth slid under, then his nose, and finally, his sparkling, cool eyes drifted underneath the surface and closed as he floated in a world of his own: a world of time, of hearts, of tick-tick-tickings cloaked in dark, pristine water that flowed apathetically around his sinking body; a world of endings.