The day was ending. Not the usual day measured in hours, but the kind of day measured in lifetimes. Or perhaps eons. Can one really understand for sure whether one day is on the cusp of another, or if there is merely some ethereal dissolution from one existence to the next? Are we here as individuals or as unseen forces passed from one physical body to another as our days stretch into infinities? Is there an expiration to our existence, or a continuation simply beyond our comprehension? Darn. Lights out.
[The above is a response to a Microfiction prompt:
Write a 100 word or less story or poem about something ending. Include either the word cusp, expiration, or dissolution (or all three if you feel ambitious).]
© David J. Kent 2015