Until it ends, there is no end

The sound of the clock echoed in the huge room. I stared up at it, at its pendulum swinging side to side. Time seemed to be dragging on. The room was bare, with only a large window to look out of. Outside it, there was a whole different world. A world full of happiness and joy. But in here, in this house, the world was a completely different place. It was a cruel world; it …

…on two things, en Edward Hopper painting "Morning sun" and the idea of final minutes. The idea came to me after reading a friends essay describing someone going into the elcetric chair. I have a friend who went through a period wehere she was in the same state as the character in my story, but she did not take any extreme action. I wrote it so she would see how people around her would react.