Friday 8 March 2019

Running Out The Clock

The clock kept ticking over.

He was the last one left. Billions of years of existence has passed, and he was the very last living thing. Not even a microbe was still alive, just him and time itself.

Another few seconds past.

His kind lived for eons, and he'd experienced all the good art and culture of all the races, as well as all the bad art and culture. He still had lots of mediocre art, but he found staring down time more enticing.

He was sure time would die first.

Unaware it existed only as long as he did.

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