I woke up to the kind of morning that made me believe in luck, the kind of morning that made people say stupid shit like "today's gonna be different". Sunlight cut through my blinds in sharp , golden stripes-no clouds, no rain. Just that kind of morning. Too good to be real.
Breakfast was coffee, black and bitter, (pun intended), and a piece of a toast i scrapped from last night's crumbs. The toast popped up, charred at the edges. I swore I'd set the timer right. My phone buzzed. A text from Mom, just a heart emoji, her lazy way of saying good day without having to waste the letters. She never texted much. One word replies, usually. In person? Chatterbox. Couldn't shut her up about the weather, the neighbors, dad, the way I "used to smile more".
I didn't answer. The clock on the microwave blinked 8:17, same as my phone, same as the stupid analog piece hanging in the hallway. Time was consistent. For once.
I still remember the first time dad brought that thing home. His 'nostalgia is a lifestyle phase'. He'd say "the oldest clocks tell the best lies". Grinning like he'd cracked the code to the universe. Hah. It's still ticking.
Unlike him. You know. Sometimes at night. I swear it stops. Just for a second, like the house is holding it's breath. Then it starts again, like nothing happened.
Strange.
Mom always hated it, said it was morbid, keeping time like some Victorian ghost. Dad would laugh, "better morbid than boring," he'd say. Guess he got his wish. I think it grew on her, eventually. She couldn't bring herself to get rid of it after he passed, so I took it, for her sake. And mine.
I still remember the day he died. A sunny Tuesday, just like this one, the clock in his hospital room had no second hand, just a lazy circle eating itself. Hard to forget. Mom stopped wearing her watch after. Said she preferred the days blurring now. Whatever that meant.
His last words to me? "Don't waste your life staring at clocks, kid. They don't give a shit if you live or die". Pretty ironic coming from a man who collected them like holy relics. Guess that's why it carved right through me when the nurse called it- "time of death: 2:15pm". The clock won.
Coffee ran cold, the walk down memory lane took longer than I had realized. I threw the rest down the drain, it hit the porcelain like a body hitting pavement.
"Dramatic".
Maybe dad's irony was rubbing off on me. Outside, the sun was a bastard. Too bright for a Tuesday. Too bright for anything, really. But the heat on my skin felt good. Like a distraction.
My car sat in the driveway. Passenger seat empty. No surprise there, been that way since he left. The door stuck when I tried yanking it open. The hinges were rusting. Just like everything else in my damn life. Key in the ignition, engine growling. The dashboard clock blinked 8:24, same as my phone. Same as the watch I wasn't wearing. "Consistent for once."Dad would have called that "proof that God's a comedian."
I peeled out the driveway, hitting the main street like I owed it money. Radio came on. Some pop song about forever started playing. "Forever's bullshit," i muttered, cranking up the volume like I could drown out the sound of my own thoughts. Windows down. The wind screaming in my ears. For a moment I was free. Unbothered. Everything was quiet. I let go of the wheel, not to die no, just to feel.
Bad idea.
9:39 AM. Empty road.
9:42 AM. The deer.
Not running. Not grazing, just watching. Like it knew something i didn't. Our eyes locked. In another life, maybe we'd both walk away, maybe we wouldn't have met. 9:45 AM. I hit the brakes. My hands slipped, the wheel spun. The deer didn't move.
9:46 AM. Impact.
The windshield exploded. Glass rained. My body splattered on the pavement. My skull cracked against it. Warmth spread from my ribs, pooling under me. So much pain. I tried to scream, only a gurgle came out. Somewhere, a clock ticked. Or maybe that was just my pulse, slowing.
The deer stood over me, it's breath fogged in the air. A thought came to mind. "What luck I've got." Dad's voice echoed "Don't waste your life staring at clocks, kid. They don't give a shit if you live or die."
9:50 AM. The clock wins again.