The blades of the old fan were moving ominously. It has always made that slow tick-tick sound, but somehow I never noticed it until now. Right now, when the air is in its moment of transition, from the cruel 38 degrees of the day, dipping down to a sudden 15 of the night. I scratched my skin. The dryness left a couple of white lines from my nails. Today had been a good day. If by good you mean productive, naah, not really. But throw in a pretty awesome thriller on the big screen, an unhealthy burger n fries for lunch after that, an ever growing playlist of brilliant music, some ranting, some catching up with people, and a great many cups of chai while pretending to be lost in some deep philosophical shit. Well yes. That was my day. And now, back to the ominous fan. It would definitely act as a pretty neat prop for some horror flick I make someday. The cobwebs hung from the edges of the blade, holding on for dear life. And at that speed, it wasn’t really cutting through any air. I almost felt sorry for the fan. The blades, pregnant with dust, looking down at us mortals glued to the computer screen. With these hopes and expectations, and deadlines and realities, fighting to hang on to us with dear life. The room collapsed into a slow moving dance. And as the pixels on my screen blurred, my eyes shut.