Til The Lights Sputter Out
Is this it? My reward for holding out just a faceful of cold concrete floor?
20260530
Written for Bradley Ramsey’s “Halls Of Pandemonium”, Day 30.
Dammit. Can’t… get… up.
Is this it?
Guess I shouldn’t have tried to stretch the rations so far. As if it mattered.
But I hoped I’d go in my sleep. Just… slide away. One of the lucky ones.
Not slumped on the floor, concrete leeching my last heat. Damned lights won’t stop buzzing - or is that my ears?
Lights. “Last one alive, turn out the lights”. Wonder how long the fuel’ll last? Then the bunker’s truly a tomb.
I think of the others. Put to rest down below.
Should’ve given in. Should’ve gone first.
Then I wouldn’t be going alone.
Prompt was “Write from the perspective of a character who is dying and about to draw their final breath”.