Failure

Do you feel the chill? The ice is growing colder. It's clear we failed the test. Now the cyan soundscape is closing in around us. The wind howls through the tunnels, telling us there could be a way out. An opening; freedom. But, but there isn't. There's nothing left. Nothing.

I just wish we'd had more time; more time to, to think. More time before the, the anxiety...The fear...The reckoning. But, but we didn't. Streaks of white slice through the hissing ice; it's beautifully cold. The mist rises from its surface, whispering gently. Every last morsel of warmth, life in me condenses into a clammy evaporation of grief. I, I lay d-down, my breathing f-fading a-away...The ice...It's..

It's clear we failed the test.