The second hand ticked on my watch louder with each passing moment as it rested on the counter. Along with each tick it produced, a droplet of blood fell from where the watch once sat on my wrist. Instead of horizontally, what sat there now vertically stretched the length of my inner arm.
I stared at the wound as the red liquid continued to pool outside of its home, faster and faster and then slower and slower. I expected pain, but there was none. I expected clarity but that never came. What I had, was beauty. Pure inner beauty, finding it’s release. What a sight that was to fall asleep to. Such a wonderful sight indeed.