Stone Circle No time

Skippable unless prompted.

He stands like a fucking fool not knowing what to do.

Because he was one.

Words charge through his ears, all in a tar-like slowness that glued upon his head and clogged it with acid. Weeping, and the stiff air shattered by sniffles, cries and the ruckus of broken movement. He did not know why he could hardly hear any of it, or why he could do nothing. Why he felt as if he could do nothing. Why he knew he could do nothing. The berating, pounding words and corroding doors that sealed shut paths to never be opened again, and the rusty smell of a new kind of reality touching him. Like a pulling of his pelt, and a sickening within his throat, that he could not possess the truth that there was change happening. It was all too fast- this was all too fast.

Why wasn't it stopping? Why wasn't it stopping? Why wasn't it stopping? He choked, and his throat tightened until he was breathless. Then an eerie still, until he could no longer control his body.

What had he done?