Tick tock. Tick tock.
“The sound coming from the grandfather’s clock is kinda bloodcurdling at a time like this.” He murmured to himself.
He was sitting idly in one of those sophisticated black-leathered sofas when he stood up and made his way to the badly lit foyer and continued to make his way outside. The sun was shining brilliantly.
Those impending grey clouds might cover the sun anytime soon. He thought as he momentarily looked up the mass of gloomy puffs of nimbus clouds that dim out the bending long grasses from the landscape overlooking where he stood.
As fast as something may look beautiful to the eyes, as fast as it may entirely vanish in another minute.
He squinted behind those glistening sunshine that might eventually blister his skin if he doesn’t get back inside.
Before he could turn back, a pink spark flashed in his peripheral view. Something caught his eye. He was taken aback and felt his body freeze, motionless under the afternoon sun. Despite the hotness, he could feel the cold eerie wind enveloping him. A yellow flash sparked this time. Then green, just in front of him followed by a blue flicker just beside the green one.
Am I dying? I’m too young for this kind of stuff. His heart beating faster and faster, adrenaline taking over him. He alarmingly remembered how his mother died at a young age; of heart attack at the least time expected. Now he’s worrying he may possibly be the one after that.
The next thing he’d do is to look around, the urge to run, call for help. But his whole body hardened and weighed down to the grounds as if gravity itself snarled his feet to the earth. One by one, the sparks turned into four pretty little ladies with dresses that float in thin air, slowly forming and rotating, twirling their long skirts round and round. He couldn’t believe what he sees; he couldn’t believe what’s happening to him now.
Wake up. Compellingly informing himself that this is just a dream. A nightmare.
As their transformation was completed – their tiny translucent wings fluttering in mid-air – they held hands and encircled his head and chanted words he couldn’t fathom. Their voices serene and flowing. It was like a song, chanted beautifully but without any tune. Resembling a melody, but not totally as one would say a wheat for a grain. It was something delightful to the ears – heavenly and will etch in your mind, something you can’t possibly forget all throughout your life.
Then in the middle of all that unlikely admirable upheaval, their voices echoed through him, and his vision swiftly blurring. Haziness and distortion to his views, pitch black, then nothing. His existence sucked.