Anatomy of an Eternity

The radiant sun shines through the large window. Children are in the street playing hockey and laughing in the cold air of the not-quite-spring morning. The neighbors across the street are sweeping the driveway for the first time since the snow melted. A woman in pink waves as she jogs by; a small dog keeps proper pace. By all accounts it looks like it can't possibly get better.

A stark contrast exists on the other side of the window. He sits at the table absently sipping coffee. He can't taste it. He can't stop thinking about it.

He feels his heart beat faster. Memories are racing through his brain.

"Why?" his mind screams as a whimper escapes his lips.

He feels his chest tighten; unimaginable weight compresses his lungs. He tries to suck in precious air.

He stares out the window unblinking, trying desperately to focus. The children children have stopped moving. A hockey puck was hovering just feet from the net. The neighbor froze mid-sweep. Floating dirt was suspended inches from the broom; each perfect swirl of dust preserved in motionless air.

He is suffocating. He can feel his oxygen deprived heart hammering as pain shoots deep through his eyes to the back of his head. Suddenly the sun is too bright; harsh spots fill his field of vision. He squeezes his eyes closed to shield against the feeling of a thousand needles converging on his retina.

The air in the house is crushing him. He tries harder to breathe but no precious air reaches his lungs. He can hear every panicked breath, every beat of his heart as oxygen deprived blood courses in his ears.

The coffee smells acrid as he slams his cup back on the table.

He can no longer hear the children laughing. Instead he hears a cacophony of familiar voices; bits of old conversations surface. He tries to make sense of them but he can't focus. His mind is racing in a myriad of different directions.

He hears a splash as loud as a crashing wave. He hand feels like it's on fire. He lifts his hand in front of his face; he can see every detail on the surface of his wet skin. He becomes abruptly aware of a burning stream of tears flowing freely down his face.

He jumps up. He barely notices the chair crashing backwards as it falls over. He can't breathe. His stomach rebels against his abrupt movement and he heaves dry air.

He looses his balance and begins to fall. Time moves agonizingly slow. His downward descent to the ground is filled with dread at the impending crash. He hears every heartbeat as ticking like a clock as he watches the ground rush up to meet him.

All at once he feels the excruciating pain ripping through his body. An explosion of whiteness blinds his vision for a horrifying moment. His heart is beating, trying escape from his chest. He can't move his limbs.

In terror, he forces himself to retreat into the blackness of his mind. Each moment is excruciating.

As he lays on the cold stone floor, his panic begins to subside. He can feel his breathing and heart rate slowly return to normal. The thunder of voices in his ears dissipate as his vision turns dark and then begins to clear.

He vaguely realizes that only a few moments passed in the space of what seemed like an eternity. He rubs his wet face, wishing he could brush away the uncertainly and bitter emptiness inside as easily as he wiped away the tears.