Sunday Photo Fiction: How a Bad Day Must Feels Like


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Someone screamed, snapping me back to reality, you need to run, my brain told me as I looked up and watched a million shards of glass hurling toward me like rain. Then, the strangest thing happened. It was like everything stopped, like everyone had become frozen in time while every piece of glass from the building fell slowly upon them.

I guess that’s what a bad day must feel like. It begins with a splitting headache and high-pitched ringing and this is the cherry on top of icing. Or did I know this was coming? Maybe my head’s been giving me a dozen signs. Maybe with the headache, it’s been telling me to stay home. Maybe my defiance will be what gets me killed.

As I sat in the farthest corner of the courtyard at lunch, I took a long minute to record my observations around me. Where is that ringing coming from? People all around seemed to be oblivious by it. It began to feel like something or someone was toying with me, trying to drive me to insanity. I shook my head. “This is not real.” I muttered with clenched teeth.

Exhausted, I stood up and walked toward the building. I was three steps from the revolving doors when I suddenly knew but I had foolishly chosen to look up.

A Response for Sunday Photo Fiction

 

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