Microfiction #14: Origins

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There was a clock. Ticking and tocking.

Tick, tick, tock, tick.

He couldn’t see it, but it certainly was there, constantly.

Tock, tock, tick.

It ticked whenever he did something good, like that time he helped the sickly old lady cross the road and she thanked him by telling him he had a very special destiny to fulfill

Tick tick tick.

It tocked whenever he did the opposite, like when he punched the homeless guy in the dark alley out of rage for being fired from his third job.

Tock tock tock.

In spite of himself, he often found the tocking more soothing. So he bought himself guns, until later he could afford rockets and a presidential campaign.

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5 thoughts on “Microfiction #14: Origins

    1. haha, well I like to leave out details, so my readers can speculate on their own and challenge their imagination, but if you follow the title and the story you’ll notice the character morphing into something (or someone) else. And this is just one of the reasons I’ve grown to like flash fiction. You can say so much using so few words. Am glad you enjoyed it!

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