Adolphus Riddle didn’t know what to do. If his calculations were correct, he had only one minute left. What should I do? - he wondered - 60 billion nanoseconds go by very quickly...
One can achieve so much in a tiny, little fraction of time.
Tumbleweeds brushed past Adolphus’ room, desperately trying to avoid the source of the temporal dimension. It was as if everything around him was expressing its sincerest form of regret, discontent, and panic. He shuddered.
DiCaprio didn’t get his Oscar. That was his biggest regret, and he was very irritated and ashamed of himself for that; he had achieved absolutely nothing in his calm, petty life. And as the seconds went by, Adolphus realised that things didn’t go quite the way he had anticipated them to come out. He and his pesky plans. He was just another piece of meat on bone, the 7 billionth-and-first child of terra incognita.
Stop it! Stop thinking like a masochistic existentialist! - Adolphus Riddle wanted to change. He decided to take drastic actions. Oh, what could he do in his last minute of being? He could start off by rising from his archaic desk, turning off his antediluvian personal computer and pressing a big, red, bold DO NOT PRESS button, which was programmed beforehand by him to destroy his tiny room. You know, might come in handy. It sure did, and he did not feel so down, after all. Blowing up his home (if he could call it that) was the greatest sensation he had experienced in the last 40 years.
Adolphus started walking nowhere in particular, straight ahead, just to get away from the place he was psychologically chained to for the most part of his life. Walking down the dusty road, he felt the strong, cold wind racing through his spine, foreboding his pathetic, lonely fate. The clouds were heavily gathering round, blocking all sunlight, but one little spot on the hill. He walked faster. Adolphus ran, he wanted to feel cozy and warm, he wanted to greet his fate in light, in happiness...
The minute ended.
// Go back in timeBarbican
// To the future