I just wrote this while I was procrastinating on editing my novel. I tried to make it look like it had a certain symmetry with lines and stuff, but if it looks stupid let me know. A short piece, but I kinda like it. Anyway, enjoy! Cheers, MademoiselleKool
Beep.
Beep..
Beep…
The loneliest sound in the world.
Beep….
Beep…..
Beep……
It’ll drive me crazy any second here, I just know it will. I’ll just snap.
Beep…….
Beep……..
Beep………
Even though it’s a quiet sound, each time it occurs it’s like a sledgehammer driving a very large stake through my scull.
Beep……….
Beep………..
Beep…………
I wish it would never come back, yet I wait with bated breath for each new ‘beep.’ Beep equals life, I kept reminding myself. That’s what they always said, anyway. Beep equals life. Yeah, right. Beep equals a pitiful half-life that I, by all rights, shouldn’t even be living. Beep equals life.
Beep………….
Beep…………..
Beep……………
“As long as you hear that beeping, you’re okay.” I remember the hearty voice of that annoying doctor - stupid know-it-all. Never work with people like me unless you’re missing at least one limb, that’s my doctor-policy. This guy was all arms and legs and broad shoulders, tan skin, broad grin. He thought it was funny, that something like a little ‘beep’ would mean life.
Beep…………….
Beep……………..
Beep………………
Not funny to me, buster. Not funny at all. Do you see a grin on my face right now? I could almost reach out with my remaining fist and pound that smile right off your know-it-all face, doc. You should just be glad I’m avoiding enmity with higher beings right now. Namely God. You said that like it was a joke - “just listen for the beep, son. You’ll be fine.” Ha. Fine. Now that almost made me smile. You’re making progress, doc. Almost funny, that. “You’ll be fine.”
Beep…………………
Beep………………….
Beep…………………..
Yep, you said it like a joke, but now it resounds through my head. I know I won’t last the hour. I’m straining for each ‘beep,’ wanting it to happen, wanting it never to happen again. I watch the seconds on the clock, and I know the ‘beeps’ are getting further and further apart. I’m counting them, now. Before this terrible… thing… happened, this… accident - I would have laughed at the idea of a simple, repetitive sound taking up my every waking thought. Now all my interest is tied intently up in that little noise. It’s slowing even more, now. Seconds and seconds pass between each one.
Beep…………………………
Beep………………………….
Beep…………………………..
Ha. I can feel a strange feeling come over me - a dramatic speech coming on. Nobody to give it to, though. I’m here all alone, my queer body and my queer mind and my ‘beeps’ for company. I wonder why people always feel compelled to do that whole dramatic speech thing at their deaths? It seems like they’d be paying more attention to their eternal damnation or whatever than what their living companions will think of them. I mean, they’ll be dead, after all… WAIT. There’s only silence. No beeps. What’s the problem? I’m frantic, but I can’t move. I’m heavy. I can’t move. Come on, I think. Life was so hard, it owes me one more. One more beep. Come on. Count the beeps. Beep equals life.
Beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep










