I was looking through some old writing ideas I had and came across theist old micro short story I wrote three years ago. So I fixed it up a bit.


Time is always falling past us. With every step we take, with every breath, thought, everything we do. So it seems right that this journey begin with a fall. I stare up at the dark grey abyss above me watching as the tears of the sky fell and land upon the ground then I look down to stare at not the ground but myself. A crowd has gather but they pay me no notice. I take another look and just walk away.

Today was not meant to be a day for anything just sitting back and watching the rain hit the glass of my apartment window. As I stop at a street corner flashing red lights highlight my face as they head towards the crowd. I think life is so fragile that we may try and try to hold on and, with a simple bump and a fall it can walk away.

“Is it your time or is it not?" a dark voice whispers in my ear carried only by the wind. I try to avoid it until “is it really your time? or, is there something left for you?” The dark voice is taunting me I turn but there is no one there.

For some reason I could not explain. I moved towards where I thought the voice was. The rain now flowing in rivers down the street still with a light tint of red to it flowing out to places unknown. I felt the wind change from pushing me back to pushing me onward. I stop in a dark ally in front of a door. I stare at the windows all cracked or broken beyond that nothing but the darkness. I start to turn away when...

“Are you sure it is your time? or, is they’re something better waiting on the other side?” I turn in time to see the door swing open and fall off its old rusty hinges. The wind came through the old building blasting cold air in my face.

I walk carefully into the darkness and all sounds gave way to a sudden silence. I turned to walk back out the door but now all I face is a wall. After a few more steps the silence is broken by a medley of sounds. I hear children laugh with joy, glass breaking, people yelling. It all sounds so familiar. As I walk the sounds change some happy, some sad. Screams of joy, pain, sorrow, and ecstasy.

I wonder the halls the floor give way at the departure of my feet I look to the windows but cannot see the outside world. I stare up only to see pipes drip ice cold water down onto my face. When out of the corner of my eye I see a light.

I move towards towards the light as if pulled by an imaginary force I hear the dark voice one more time “that’s it your time is up time to come with me.” I stop short look back into the dark then to the light. My mind begins to race and the noise in the halls grows louder. I look up and see the pipes and then take one final look it to the light.

I jump up and grasp the pipes letting the ground beneath my feet give way and when it had I let go and fell deep in the darkness. As I fell the voices began to quiet and, I thought I heard a faint no in the background but it only lasted a second. I shut my eyes and, let myself fall.

When I opened my eyes again I was looking down at a familiar friend. I took their hand and, let myself fade back in to them. I then knew that the journey was over.