The Broken Machine

Another 100 word storytelling.  Sorry for coming up with this late story.  I've been sitting down trying to process my own feelings into words, there's a fog right now in my head making it hard to tap into that place I usually go to for stories.  

I'm going to apologize ahead of time if my posting for stories become irregular once again.  Final exams are coming up, and I'm trying to finish up projects, and then I've been dumped with extra hours at work (working 56 hours/week, starting Monday).  I'm not going to skip a day, but it might turn out that I'll be playing catch up in order to give myself time to rest and study.  

Ok, now that I'm done with the excuses.  This story came about after I sat down and just simply meditated on what's been bothering me the whole day, it sums up all the stress I've been feeling.  Plus waking up in the middle of the night worried that I forgot to do something.  

Enjoy this 100 word story brought to you by stress and worry.  

*picture is originally from http://danrouthphotography.blogspot.com/2010_11_01_archive.html

11/16/2013 (Saturday)- The Broken Machine

Grey clouds brood up high, letting their cold tears fall below: their chill reaching deep into bones, pulling heavy at the heart, and pouring lead into feet.

Still they push onward, blood and flesh gears grinding away ‘til the day they sleep.  It’s a long time until then, going where they need to in order to stay awake.

Grey clouds cover up the sun, cutting off what sweet short repose they might get: grinding ceaselessly ‘til their teeth are worn down, working ‘til they break apart.

Still they push onward.

Struggling to stay awake, too scared to go to sleep.