Waiting (3): “Counting Down”


Days reduce to hours to minutes to seconds.

Each thump of my heart brings me closer to the end.

My final steps deliver me to my last pathetic view, all browns, greys, muted blues; official uniforms and cold faces. Itโ€™s almost a relief when the hood goes on and the world goes black; the musty cotton intruding on the institutional antiseptic scent.

Someone is talking but all I can hear is the pounding of blood in my head.

I sense people stepping away and thereโ€™s a clunk as the lever is thrown and I begin my drop to oblivion.




7 thoughts on “Waiting (3): “Counting Down”

    1. Thanks, Diana. One of the great things about writing flash fiction is the different approaches you can take. And exploring the grim pit of death is always an interesting experience! ๐Ÿ˜‰

      Liked by 1 person

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