‘Tick ... ... tick ... tick ... ... tick.’
Phosphenes danced slowly behind closed eyes.
‘Tick ... tick ...’
Lizzy let the sound tug her into blank consciousness, aware of nothing but air wheezing through crack lips.
The dark swallowed her.
‘Tick ... tick ...’
This time she felt the cold; the deep chill residing in her bones. Sensing she was about to slip away again she willed her eyes open.
She was lying on the lino, the room dimly lit. The house was silent except for the old clock in the hall which had more tick left than her.
A drabble is a story of exactly 100 words.
1 comment:
Oh, that's dark and compelling, Rob! I really want to know more about Lizzie and what happened to her.
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