In a small, bare room, a man sleeps. Lines are etched deeply into his bearded face, but it remains, nevertheless, strangely ageless. On a table beside the bed stands an electric alarm clock, its display reading 23:58:47, 31 Dec 1999. A calendar hangs on the wall, the room's only decoration, a circle drawn around the next day's entry: "Incarnate -- Second Coming."
The alarm clock now reads 23:59:30. A sense of epiphany grows, swells to fill the universe as midnight approaches--
--then bursts like a bubble as the display becomes 99:99:99, 99 Zzz 1900. The man turns over in his sleep, grunting.
Copyright © Michael Grant
Do not reproduce without permission
And there you have it -- told you you it was short! what you thought of it.
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