AN ALARMING TALE

It was three-thirty-seven, that hushed and dreamy time between night and light when the birds are resting from their daily chores and chorales, and a cool, damp shroud of ethereal haze paints all things colorless with muted moonlight.  From the clock on his nightstand, the glowing red numbers glared at Alverne, cutting the sepia darkness like a razor drawn along tender flesh.  The numbers!  They were bad.  But at least they were moving, always changing. 

No, the numbers weren’t the real problem.  Oh, they did their fair share to provoke him.  They changed their pace, slowed down whenever he watched them.  They loved to make him wait, make him frustrated, make him scream.  And when they slowed, the night moved in and closed around him.  It’s grey, lifeless fingers crawling silently down his throat, filling his lungs with cement and squeezing the beat from his heart.  Sweating and gasping for breath, he knew that they would change.  They had to!  Then things would be alright again…at least for a while.

Yeah, the numbers were bad enough, but they were just teasing him, scaring him, trying to drive him nuts.  But the tiny, glowing dot, the harbinger of alarm, sat right next to them and never changed.  It never became something different.  It was evil, pure and simple.  Satan becomes an angel of light, but he’s still the devil no matter how he looks.  The dot never hides behind a mask.  It simply doesn’t care. 

And the dot hits hard!  It knows nothing of mercy.  It stomps on helpless, sleeping kittens and plays hardball with a baby’s skull.  The damned, fiery, demon dot!  Sure, the numbers were trying to make him crazy, but the dot was on a mission to destroy him.  It had a plan.

Night after night, the numbers played their game with him.  He’d gotten used to it, expected it, even looked forward to it in a pathetic attempt to salvage some remnant of his wits.  But after the games, when he finally made it to the other side of reality, the dot attacked.  It sent its belching siren to claw through the fragile curtains separating Alverne from his fate.  Then harsh sunlight comes slicing its way through his eyelids and piercing his brain, bringing him face to face with a new day.