zaess:

trying to write the first paragraph of a thing

(via starcaptain)

fakescience:

The clock whirred and choked on time. Springs springing loose, gears gruesomely grinding against one another, and the numbers loosing all face value. The clock, no longer a mechanism for measuring time but instead a cyclone of madness and rage, spitted out of control and screamed out into the room a violent wail of pain. 

John woke from his slumber, looked up at the clock resting on his nightstand, and gently, still half asleep, tapped the snooze bar. 

The mechanism took breath from it’s fury, and both it and John rested once again… For another five minutes, at least.

I got up from the couch, put on clothes, and left the apartment. I looked like shit, pale and exhausted walking the street. The sun burnt my eyes, but I kept walking. Walked ten miles in what seemed like five minutes to her house.

My old car is parked in the driveway. She’s home.

Good.

I sneak around the back to the back door. I kept the key, she never knew.

I open it up, and slowly sneak in. I close the door behind me.

She’s screaming in the bedroom, moaning some other guys’ name. My bed is squeaking, my bedpost banging against the wall.

The stranger in my head goes, “Told you so.”

I go to my living room and sit on my couch, and wait for her there.

After a while, the moaning stops. At first, it’s quiet, and then I hear the bathroom door close with a click of the lock.

I stand up. I wrap my hand around the revolver in my pocket and walk towards my room.

I smell smoke as I approach, and sure enough, there’s this muscle head naked between my sheets, sucking on a cigarette.

I walk into the room, he jumps up naked, but before he can even get a word out, I pull the trigger.

Falls like a ragdoll onto the floor.

I hear my wife screaming in the bathroom, still yelling this guy’s name, but not like before.

I walk over to my bathroom. This woman is hysterical! She’s banging on the walls, I hear things flying around in there, the shower curtains going back and forth.

“Jeremy!? Jeremy!? God Dammit Jeremy! What the fuck is going on?!”

I tap the nozzle of the gun to the door. Tap it three times against the door.

“Honey, I’m home.”