Ficly

and then

gram by gram, ember by ember, is hisses and smokes away. it recedes like hairline and muscle tone and facts once memorized, it stops responding like old friends drifting away. you do not realize, as it floats, as it fleets from your fingertips, that there is anything amiss; in that crucial moment you always and inevitably have something else ‘more important’ on your mind. now all that’s left is a cold, hard, emptiness that feels like cement that’s had the snow scraped off. like Scrooge’s tombstone at the end of ‘A Christmas Carol’, the frost pushed away to reveal your paltry name weather worn and indifferent to your uncovering. the mature reaction is silence, if you cannot contain yourself maybe your eyes widen at that moment and you keep from breathing. eventually though you’ll have to continue with a deep sigh, respiration is unending, and a blink to wipe the dust of the world from your needy corneas.

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