After Eight

“I had some dreams, they were clouds in my coffee”

1:04 a.m.

The clocks all seemed to agree, but something was awry.

The ever-present insinuation is that the passage of time is subjective to a person's conscious experiences, but Thomas knew that there was no conceivable way that less than a minute had passed since the last time he checked.

“Clouds in my coffee, and...”

The thin walls of his apartment subjected him to the 30-something widow's radio next door. Normally this would be just white noise, but this stuck feeling of being frozen in time would not let up, and the song, which he'd heard hundreds of times before, all of the sudden sounded like it was directed at him. Even if he had dreamed of an intimate encounter with Carly Simon, it wouldn't have felt more direct.

What was impeding his sleep? Well, having coffee after 8 p.m. couldn't have helped. The neighbor's radio seemed like it was just reminding him of a poor decision: a minor decision, one would assume, but a poor one nonetheless.
Why the hell would he drink coffee after 8? He hadn't slept in days, ever since Amanda left. Reality hadn't quite set in yet, and since Thomas was still in shock, he would rather prolong the numbness than have to face it freshly (...at least for a couple more days, please, God). He knew that one more night awake would begin to usher in delirium, and fogginess was currently the warmest blanket his mind could think of.

There HAD to be something wrong with the clocks. 1:04 a.m., still? Maybe time no longer exists, and he's just going to be stuck here in this moment until...until what?

This was it. He was going insane. Yet this was the relief he longed for...once reality crumbled, he could get what little enjoyment out of life he figured was still available.

His eyes berserkly wandered, and he felt like he was losing control. This was an ominous feeling: being stuck in time, and the song bleeding through the walls, prophesying his current state.

“You're so vain, I'll bet you think this song is about you”

He shut his eyes for 10 seconds, and then opened them to check the clock one more time...

Damn. 1:05.

“Don't you? Don't You?”