The broken clock   

It all begins after a major blur into a realm that fails to explain why the body sarcomas to the ultimate high with no side effects but only amazing effects that comes very close to the real thing enveloping the trinity of a man's being into some aura spinning many decades in only a matter of minutes nightmares, erotic dreams what is it with dreams? This fellow who seemed yellow in complexion from a distance declared an insomniac by those forces neglected by humankind, those defined by the cosmos only known by spirits that are in cohesion with it that it makes them frivolous in the eyes of the unconsciously living. Thought to him-self spinning under a ceiling less roof exposing the gloomy grey zinc sheets of this architectural structure exposing lack of creativity, consumed by his thoughts to the depths that food lost its tastes, water had no sense of nourishment his only connection to this mortal world was his thoughts this great big cocoon of riches that could fill many pages and what makes it all the more satisfying is that only he knew what they meant as if some unsolvable mathematics problem  that could only be solved by him, a secret that the lord had told him in the secrecy of the night when all is out of sight. This realm of life where he was king.


What Mandela was to South Africa! He was this to his thoughts.


The clock strikes 11pm


Accompanied by a gong that banged 11times each with increasing intensity as each passed well at least that's what it sounded like to him, as the world outside his window dies down with the only creatures immune to fatigue being cars going up and down the road with the same tone not losing intensity, the lights go down and all retire to sleep as if it is a new fetish being experienced for the first time. A man who lost all sense of sanity and knows not his name anymore and refers to himself as a common man, spins about in his bed balanced on all four legs by red stock bricks of a 4course height equivalent staring into oblivion the light casting a shadow of broken black upon the roof and the rest of the light was focused on this figure spread across this bed covered by blankets.


It was the will of very few men to let their thoughts reincarnate in the small spaces they occupy as he settled into his covers losing track of time, place, and the actual universe he was inhabiting. His room was like a city miles away sparkling as if to show life he turned to his right looking at his lace curtain exposing the world outside a surge of thoughts suddenly as light does of darkness and as suddenly as the surge pounced upon him he began to understand the sayings of a great men that man is nothing when compared with everything and everything when compared with nothing, a mean between  nothing and everything since he is infinitely removed from comprehending the extremes, the end of things and their beginning are hopelessly hidden from him in an impenetrable secret, he is equally incapable of seeing the nothing from which he was created and the infinite in which he was swallowed up it is much the feeling as speaking to god as he tramples on the soil of an environment where all tries to understand their ways and keep up with the cycle of evolution .what happens behind closed doors that is concealed to the world is it only adultery, fornication and alcoholism or did it go beyond that, that somewhere out there existed people who accepted passive activity of thinking with open arms.


The clock strikes 1am


And practically all is quiet as if it has never come to know sound, the sky seemed navy-blue died orange by lights on the streets, with the rattling of the bed spring he turns to this picture on the wall of a forest, coloured black and white stretching forever beyond this cubed framed picture isolating the creative muse of this anonymous artist, Where was this place, how could he get to it and would such a place conform to his complexion. He started posing himself with questions, does such a connection exist between men and his environment was he the one who held the answers to what ridicule society for many centuries that have passed, how possible was it that in this quiet space he had defined the many truths and its relation to men.


The clock strikes 3:45am


And the chirping of the birds begins as if paying attention to some biological watch or proclaiming they are the first to pollute the sound waves, time accelerates forward at an extreme pace from this moment onwards with the tick-tock sound strange but nobody hears them except him. Time was corrupted by the wee-hours of the morning that he began to doubt that time really existed? Was it him who had lost track of time and was he destined to never catch up with it. As everything becomes clearer both in the outside world and his world he stretching his hands in an angle of repose to his head yawning but this was no sign of sleep but a hint of the body's frustration of the many nights it had been awake, he turns his sights to this mirror where he could see himself clearly like never before this decorated part of him that he could blatantly deny it was not him, this figure not blinking looking straight into his eye lobes of a white ocean with a wandering Island that is decorated brown staring, felt as if he wanted write but the numbness would not let his body make a single move and find paper to do so, all he could try and do was document everything and try to consider these thoughts later but when was later, how late will it be because he has always been in the same very spot


The clock strikes 2:00am 


Something was terribly wrong ,something had broken free to terrorise him ,time had started spinning backwards ,he felt he had been in this time zone before but nothing seemed to have changed from the outside world ,his world the world in concern was the one which seemed a complete paradox ,he wanted to get up and scream but everything was mute from banging on the walls to screams for help only reverberated


In his teeth swallowed up by some black hole between his mouth and the world that had escaped some universe alternate to his own and found him. As they say that two-worlds can not coincide in each other this was true of this common mans world who could be mistaken for anything fitting into everything, as if shedding the wrinkles of age under his eyes as every second comes back was this the ever illusive elixir of youth people had been obsessed about as he becomes younger with the reverse of time the more naďve he became or was it an attempt to eradicate his discoveries from the world by reversing time and reclaiming all of the discoveries out of him , what was he to do when father time is so protective over the land he rules


The clock strikes 12:55am


Slowly starting to panic was this the end of the world? Was this judgment day announcing its arrival? sweat slowly taking form on his forehead as if acne on a teenagers forehead  was this it what men strove to see when things go in reverse when tables turned lopsided levitating in the air when the whole of the atmosphere is a hole overcome by the forces of the infinite when everything just floats, has that time come where everything shall seize exist "hello" he tried but nothing left his mouth, is this the realm where everything was between deep space and the deep water where nothing exists in which mankind had to compromise to live but since men is a stubborn creature it is not in him to confirm and thus his end. He tossed in his bed in this mute world , that no longer was his the luminous light losing effect  it also confused of whether to shine or die out ,the world outside was dusk and in this second world the clock worked anti-time


The clock strikes 11pm


Ringing with the same intensity as it had done the previous time but instead of ringing 11times it stopped at 10 it felt like an after shock of an explosion, everything grew quite the birds went dead the cars all seemed to disappear and as suddenly as it had happened a thought popped into his head, he began to understand that this was what created men ,he thought ,this is what we owe our existence to  before time was an infant before the winds were named , men was conceived in this primordial reality for him to rule it , his body could not move only his thoughts were active in this space of nothing but as everything has a start a definite end is on the other side of the door.


As this is unthinkable to those that inhabit the world and so it pounces upon us like a lion on a hunt after a long period of drought and everything goes dim as if a performance coming to an end, the clock tries to catch up with the real time as a frantic effort to complete the task it was created for and seizes its motion as it was about to strike 6am as if its lifeline was cut off instantly, it seemed this invisible force first started with the minor of the world and than came for the ultimate prize being humankind this yellow fellow turning purple from suffocation of  some sort and slowly falling slowly into this deep sleep the expression on his face exposing the loss of pain as each second past and his eyes became smaller and closed and finally men's final destination in this darkness floating colliding with everything that ever had a shape or a name ,the alphabets waiting to be caught but no one is there the world lost in some alternate orbit deep where life is not permitted and everything ends. Where money won't save your life or your surname exempts you from this reality and all else is a formality akin with life

As unsuspectedly as it ended he heard this scream as if he was submerged in water and was having difficulty deciphering the words he slowly came afloat still under some hypnotic spell still unsure of what he would find when he opened his eyes but with much effort he opened his eyes to be met by this mature woman's face who after a second recognised that it was his mother , she was saying something and for a while he did not recognise what she was saying but after a repetition of the words he heard his mother saying " you have been sleeping the whole day " the words that followed came as a complete surprise to him when his mother said your clock is broken !!!


Kekeletso Molebatsi

 

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Name

Comment

Date

Erna

Oi!! A very convincing portrayal of madness… but very difficult to read. I think the stream-of-consciousness writing works to create an atmosphere of craziness spinning out of control, but there is a bit too much of it. The piece could do with some editing. It made my head spin, and I gave up trying to understand. I like to read pieces that use correct and carefully considered punctuation. Careless punctuation makes me feel that the writer did not take the time to make the writing as perfect as it could be – and therefore I feel that the writer does not value me, his reader.

2007-11-21

Mandy

This is a good storyline. It engaged me because I did not know what to expect next and it kept me wondering.
I agree with the previous comment that it is too verbose.
You could create the same effect with far fewer words.

2007-12-02

Ginny Swart

To tell the truth I found this incomprehensible!
Points: 1

2007-12-14

Monde Mdodana

I agree with Mandy, it’s a nice story line.

"This man is nothing when compared to everything and everything when compared to nothing"

 

Having struggled with issues of self-esteem, I felt a connection with these words.

 

Keep an eye on grammar and pretend that you are having a conversation when you write.

Points 3 - Very promising piece of writing

2007-12-20