The End is At Sight

I struggled to gain focus. I felt like I needed to focus on what was on the table, that peculiar yet bold writing, almost carved into the fine craftsmansship. So big and bold, yes even a three year old could read and understand it. But yet I still could not focus. 

I shook my head. Not good. Very bad in fact. It felt like I was moving this table in my mind and you know what happens when you try and move a table, especially one as big as this. EEEEEK, the high pitched noise squeaked in my head, as though it was being dragged along the floorboards of  my room. I shook my head again, EEEEEEEK. This time the noise was resounding, almost making the whole of my upper-body shiver, like nails down a chalk board. I clenched my teeth. 

 

Focus. What is on the table? What does it say? I was compelled towards this, despite the fact that in the corner of my eye my girlfriend had collapsed on the floor, unconscious. No this, this was now the centre of my attention. I straightened myself up and leaned over. I found myself squinting at such bold writing, squinting at it!

 

It said....what does that say? Don't look.... don't look up? I raised my head to find something horrifying fly in through the window. 

The End

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