Repent.

Here come the heathens, wailing and roaring. They thunder through the hallway, banging on doors, crying, screaming. The noise passes soon enough – they slam their fists on the next door, and the one after, until they’re seized at the end of the hall. So now it’s quiet.

She stirs, and asks me what the time is. I tell her it’s time to go.

2 hours ago, I didn’t know her name. I still don’t. 45 minutes later, we’re stabbing each other in a nameless highwayhome, we’re stabbing each other at the hips when all we want is to devour the heart, and have it ripped from us. Trying to peel the numbness away, trying to feel as if we matter.

She nods. She understands.

I throw open the door, and it’s like looking into a blender. The sky is a void, it’s a long, black tunnel, and beyond it there’s light, but don’t look. You never come back if you look. Save the best for last, and besides, He’ll show it to us when it’s ready.

And it’s ready. I look at my watch, and it’s going backwards. World’s reseting.