He sat there, deafened. The machinations hummed and buzzed around him, the screeching rattle-clack, rattle-clack building to a devastating crescendo. "The derivative,' the lady said ' of x with respect to y..." Clockwork. It was all clockwork. He clenched his teeth with the strain of stopping it all. The gears were in motion, he would be crushed amidst the steady click goddamnit, my pencil click... click... there were tears on his hand crushed amid the gears- slowly, painfully, each bone taking its time to shred and break and all the while, he would stand there, winding, winding, winding, winding.
- adam
Wednesday, June 29
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