The timer’s almost up, its little knob slowly returning to zero. You can hear how the mechanism’s pitch changes slightly as the end approaches. I wonder if I will feel pain, if it will hurt; or will it be over in a flash? I stare at the timer, waiting to die.
Outside, the rain begins to fall. I close my eyes as the soft pitter patter plays in my ears. I think of the dell, how beautiful the grassy hills look when the light mist of a gentle shower rests above them. My final hour’s comfort is just a dream.
Tale Told 