(lamp shade, hour glass, diapers...fuck major, diapers? really?)

He just let the breathing happen, not making any conscious effort in doing so; his body just would not die, keep up breathing, cheming, dissolving the little food he had a while ago. He stared at his window, the furniture at his damp room. He just lied there, waiting. Jane had gone a long time ago, her side of the bed still had the smell of her perfume, a cheap imitation of some French brand. He always loved how she would just spray the damn thing all over her wrinkled body, the memories of how she used to look like. She was the office hottie, and everyone knew what a lucky asshole he was.

He felt the stuff in his bedside table with the arm left over the covers, feeling lazy as his finger removed the thin dust from the framed picture of him with Jane, the stained glass, the bottles of pills, the old paper lampshade that gave everything a mellow red color. He could not figure how many years ago those things were there in the exact same position.

Time ran slow, he just felt the urge to sleep, but could not do so. 1 pill, 2 pills, 3pills, a blue sour one and a red and white capsule; just felt dizzy and drowsy, but the pills didnt do the trick anymore. No, no sleep for him. Sleeping is for the young, not the old. The TV screamed, some lucky winner on a jeopardy rerun. The huge clock on the wall just

                                                                  ticked on, tracing

                                                                         time, as

                                                                            slow

                                                                              as

                                                                           a grain

                                                                         of sand in

                                                                  a large hourglass.

Everything was strange to him; everyone was a stranger to him. He didnt know anyone anymore. All his friends, dead. All his family, dead. His dog, his energy and his will, gone. The only thing that kept him on his toes was the monthly visit of Dave, his grandson, and the chance to maybe meet his great-grandson. When they finally came, the old man was surprised to see how wrinkled that newborn was. Suddenly, he noticed something, the baby looked just like him. Not exactly like him, but the important traits that ran in the family were there, the ears, the chin, the eyes. And the one last thing that explained to him how the universe was made, that everything is chained and that this creature was just an extension of his family line, just like he was: they both wore diapers.

v

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haha, WTF did you expect?  A nice ending using diapers?? fuck, cant do it.