Silver chain

John was sitting at the dining table, and five other chairs were empty. The kitchen was dimly lit, and the cloudy weather turned noon into night. John gazed out of the window that reached up to the ceiling. The tall, poorly designed buildings of his city did not create an interesting view.

But John didn’t care. He stared off into the distant, unknown, sinking deeper into the darkness of the kitchen with each passing second.

"It’s colder today," John murmured under his breath. The continuation of his words escaped with a sigh from deep within his chest. He had no words left to say, even in his solitude.His thoughts had run wild. There was no coherence, and his mind felt like a gray mist, scattered and fading away. His desires, dreams, and life goals had all vanished somewhere within that fog. Now, there was only John, the kitchen table, and the frosted window.

The house had sunk into silence and darkness. Yet, a vague sound buzzed in John's ears. Those sounds had always been there, never allowing him to find peace. He couldn’t tell if it was the pulse in his head or the breath of his lungs. But that ringing in his ears was like a distant bell, always chiming.

Sometimes, John guessed it might be some kind of warning—a timer counting down the final seconds of his life.