My back ached. I’ve been sitting here for how long now? Hours? Days? Another chunk of metal flew by. What it was attached to, I hadn’t the slightest. I’d arrived at a strange place where spatiality no longer mattered, where direction and intent were forgotten.
Perhaps soon this would all be over. Something screeched, the sound of grinding metal and voices, barely comprehensible. Not that I cared to understand them.
I realised that this would never end. I could have been somewhere else. In a pub, drinking, laughing. Instead, I am here, in a world of swoops and bangs.
Someone quips. I want to die. These people, these…idiots. They’d come together in such a preposterous way, making stupid jokes and pulling stupid faces. And now they feigned watching as this happened. Something metallic hits something similar. Is that good? Bad? Do these concepts matter any more? I punch my legs in frustration. The world is about to end and I don’t care.
I never watched Transformers again.