@diegesis427 : the only thing you’ve managed to break so far is my heart.
skip once. skip twice. skip thrice. skip, skip, skip. how long had it been? how much time had truly passed? stanley had no clue. could only gather clues from his surroundings, once he came to his senses again, was ripped from whatever trance he was in by the narrator, again.
the room was dark. barely lit by the yellow glow of the button he’d pressed over, & over, despite warnings. the clock had stopped ticking long ago. the poor plant had been dead for forever -- though it all was merely seconds to stanley.
he reaches out his hand, to press the button again. then the words reach his ears -- reach his mind. hand drops to his side. heeled shoes clack against the cold, hard floor once. a step back. a step back? after all this time?
maybe it’s guilt. at last. for skipping, leaving the narrator in silence --- & although stanley always left him in silence, it was different. because he wasn’t even there to listen, to react in other ways. maybe it’s guilt that finally catches up with him, makes his knees wobbly and weak. the knowledge that he’d left someone isolated, & alone for years, centuries at this point, surely, even if it all only felt like minutes to him.
and as stanley feels the weakness in his legs, he sits down.