The Phoenix

Ten minutes before twelve, it seems like an eternity to pass by, slowly moving like a sail-boat without sails. The beginning of the end, the day behind me crumbled down and disappeared into the well of the past, leaving behind nothing but a big black gaping hole of nothingness, only remembered by those who find it best to do so. I am standing there, on the edge of tomorrow, only eight minutes to go, the future getting clearer while the past is nothing more than a fading memory. The noise of the past almost passing me by is unbearable, it sounds like breaking glass, screaming breaks, muffled screams and forward thundering trains all trying to squeeze themselves through a very small tube. My hands were covering my ears and when I looked up I noticed I had fallen on my knees, the nothingness was closer behind me, I could feel the cold creeping up my body and into my mind until my vision froze and my eyes froze over. Beneath my feet the ground shook, trembled and broke into a million pieces before fallen down from under my feet, leaving me standing on nothing. I could feel it, one minute to twelve, starting in my toes, a pain like a fire eating my skin. It crept up to my legs, torso and chest and when it had reached my arms and head I couldn't feel anymore. While the frost froze inside me I felt the pressure inside me and the clock stroke twelve. the ashes flew through the air, floating on the hot air and soaring down into the well of the past, forgotten and unclaimed, disappeared, nothing.