"Clocks slay time... time is dead as long as it is being clicked off by little wheels; only when the clock stops does time come to life." -William Faulkner
The fever has lingered for days, wreaking havoc, but today they lose their fix on him.
He's dead.
The screen flashes to Tony, screaming maniacally, violently shaking Doug's corpse like somehow that will bring him back to life.
She just sits numbly for a moment as the image flickers into nothingness.
Finally she turns to the General. Reading the pain in her eyes he simply nods. She slowly gets up and leaves the control room.
As soon as she's in the hall she starts to run, so fast that just breathing seems to stab. Making it to the free-rise platforms in record time, she sets her coordinates quickly and steps on, closing her eyes as she goes up some two-hundred levels.
Reaching her floor she high-tails down the hall, fumbling for her key. Unlocking the door in a hurry, she slides in, slamming the wood into the frame behind her and flattening herself up against the slab, sliding down to the ground.
"Why?" she whispers, the word coated with the worst kind of pain. Anger rises in her throat, and then she's on her feet again, screaming at the heavens.
"Why? He meant the world to me and now he's gone! What did he ever do to deserve dying like that? He wasn't supposed to be there, let alone die! They've been gone for five years. Five years. I suppose it would have been too troublesome for you to spare him a little longer? Our technique is almost perfect. We might have been able to bring them back tomorrow. Tomorrow!"
She finally breaks down and falls to the floor, sobbing.
She doesn't know how long she stays like that, crying her eyes out, mascara washed away by the torrent and her throat sore from miserable shudderings.
Eventually she rises, only feeling worse, and wishing for the numbness of initial shock. Stumbling over to her desk, she turns on the radio and switches to her favorite station, hoping to find some solace for her pain.
Maureen McGovern's voice pierces the silence.
There's got to be a morning after…
That all it takes to reopen the wound so sloppily doctored, and then she knows that her reservoir of tears will never run dry.
Because without Doug, there is no morning after.
