Well will you look at that, the end of April has arrived. Usually April is one of those short months that seems to evaporate but this year it seemed like a bit of a slog. Like someone slipped in an extra week when I wasn’t looking. Still we ae here now, so let’s see what the last morning prompt of the month brings. Fifteen minutes on the timer and off we go.
Not quite what I expected when I sat down with the sentence. But I kind of like it. In a dark and twisted way.
Wednesday, April 30th: They were running out of time.
They were running out of time. Soon a decision would need to be made. One of them would have to go. Brian stared at the hourglass. ‘This is so messed up,’ he thought.
He watched the sands slip by. He heard the frantic arguing of the others. No one wanted to go next. They didn’t know what happened to the others but everyone suspected the worst. They heard screams and yells and more disturbingly gunfire. They couldn’t see anything but Brian doubted they were rounded up and brought here to play a rousing game of canasta.
‘Not that I know how to play canasta,’ he thought. His grandmother played it. He remembered she had an entire group of friends who got together to play once a week.
‘Not helpful,’ he thought. He looked to the others, tearing his gaze away from the hourglass with reluctance. He didn’t know the others well. Enough to say hello to, but not really well. He did know they were friends. He was the odd man out. There were others of course, who weren’t in their group. They were gone now, sent in to the game because they weren’t part of the group. They wanted to stay together as long as possible. He wondered if it was because they thought some sort of help was coming.
‘Either way I’ll be next,’ he realized. He was the only one left not part of their group. He would be next. There was a cold clarity that settled over him as he realized it. When looking at the others, they wouldn’t meet his eyes. They had already decided.
Brian felt some of his fear fading. The uncertainty was gone. He would be sent into this game, whatever it was. He would no longer have to wait and wonder. He may not have wanted to go, but at least the waiting would be done. He took a deep breath and looked back to the hour glass. As he watched the sands slip through he took stock. No one searched them when they arrived. Even though there was no cell signal, they all had their cells on them if they were carrying them in the first place.
Brian always carried the pocket knife his grandfather gave him. He hadn’t used it in years but kept the blade sharp and the hinges oiled. It was more a relaxing habit to check it over than it was because he might need it. He was certain he managed to cut some string or slit open an envelope with it, but nothing else recently.
‘He shifted and felt the familiar weight of it in his pocket. He was certain many places he went routinely would have been horrified he was carrying the knife but he had never been able to leave it behind. He consoled himself with the fact that he never took it out of his pocket and always wore clothing loose enough that it didn’t really show. The weight of it was comforting. A familial reminder even though his family was all gone.
Now it might actually prove helpful.
‘So pocket knife,’ he thought. He continued his inventory. He doubted his wallet would be of any use, but if he found a place will cell service he might. ‘I also have my keys.’ He wasn’t certain what good they would do. He shifted his weight a little and remembered he also had a lighter. He took it from Cal the night before. More because Cal was being drunk and obnoxious with it than anything else. He kept flipping it open and closed, open and closed, the sound was driving him crazy so when Cal put it down, Brian slipped it in his pocket.
He told himself he was not only saving his sanity, but as Cal could conceivably leave it on the table he was keeping it safe. The hourglass ran out and the voice clicked on.
“Who will go next?”
Brian was not surprised when the others pushed him forward.
Ten til Midnight 