Friday 4:58

James had always wanted to be able to stop time at will. He never thought he wouldn’t be able to start it moving again.

At first it had been good fun: hiding car keys, spying on the ladies, assorted larcenies petty and grand. But now it was torture, a frozen world that conspicuously ignored him. How long had it been Friday, 4:58 PM? The afternoon sun burned on continuously. He had painted his windows black just to sleep. If he killed himself, would time pass once more, or would the world remain endlessly frozen while his corpse rotted away?

***
Title by: Chris
Story by: David

I like this story!

Undo

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