"Tick Tock"

"Tick tock"

"Tick tock"

The second hand of the clock inches forward sluggishly, reluctantly even.

"Tick tock"

"Tick tock"

I can't think.

I can't breathe.

My eyes are wide open but I'm looking into a endless space of darkness, my ears hear all but at the same time they don't; the only sounds registering are the steady rhythm of the clock.

"Tick tock"

"Tick tock"

How can time still move on?

How does time move on?

How do I move on?

"Tick—"

The clock splutters and chokes, then falls silent.

I can't hear anything.

I watch as the hands of the clock tremble and shake, feebly trying to inch forward.

Then they still.

Life goes on for everybody around me, time moves on.

But not for me.

Time seems to have frozen for me, and everything has come to a standstill.

The silence is too loud.

Time doesn't start up again for me, and the hands of the clock remain motionless.

Time has frozen for me, has been frozen ever since you left.