Good Mo--Afternoon, people of the web! No new writing today, my muse has left me. On the bright side, I'm considering taking some photos of the garden. Like so:

 This is a coreopsis from the garden.

 And right here....I don't know what it is. Help?

Anyway, I do have an old story for ya, right here: Simon. It's Over.

"Simon. It's Over."
Those words echo in my head. I don't know why, in fact, I don't know how, either. It sounds quiet, in the back of my mind, almost like an endless loop, I can't forget it.
Simon. It's a name, commonly male, originating from ancient Greece, I believe. I would be certain if those words stopped repeating and clogging my concentration.
It's Over. What is?
To my eyes, nothing is obviously the answer. I have learned to look for answers in the world around me, not solely in the words.
It is a human thing to do, judging context. Not that it is easy for someone like me, someone who knows every fact in the universe but nothing of intuition or guessing. Infinite probability permutations, but having the brain make that sudden click of understanding is a mystery to me.
But I am learning. I always am. And I always seek to explain everything I am experiencing. And right now, there is only one mystery. Those words.
They are emotional, I realize, and I try to pinpoint the exact type. Calm, definitely. But kind. I hear a warmth of which I was unaware of until only a few--
I do not know.
Another mystery. I cannot recall when I am. Where I was before. I have a definite knowledge of who, what I am, but I cannot recall how I got to this point.

So I am here. It is dark, because my eyes are shut. I am unable to open them, and now I wonder why. Very quickly the mysteries and questions are growing.
I do not feel emotion typically, but now I am overwhelmed. Confused. I do not know how to proceed, how to fix this situation. Why?

What is happening to me?

"Simon. It's Almost Over."

I am struck silent, or would have been if I were speaking. They have changed. It is not a loop. These words are present; here, nearby. Before, they were thoughts, present only in my mind, but now I hear them. The voice is the same, kind; calming. I am less confused, though none of my questions are answered.
I am still unable to move. But I am able to feel. Slowly, some touch, fingers, lift my eyelids, and my optical nerves are flooded with light. A face, the pale color reflecting into my iris, it is old, human, and I am awash with memory. Slow to retrieve, I recall the man prodding me, smiling. He has been my only companion, for as long as I know. I do not know how long that is, only that he is the man I am always with.

"Simon. There is nothing to be afraid of."

I am reassured. He would not lie to me. He has not; his rate of pulse is the same, his every movement reflecting the truth. His hands are on my face, tilting my head, and my spherically sculpted orbs spin, till their vision rests on what is below my face. My body.
It is not as I remember it, though I cannot say what I remember it as. Blackened, flesh stimulated no longer by nerves that appear to have been fried, my legs are not human.
I was always meant to be human.

A 'person'. My movements are halting. His hands guide me smoothly until I fell comfort; an emotion mixed with sensation. This man is kindness itself, kindness and genius. But my questions are unanswe--

"Simon. You cannot understand why I am doing this to you."

He is correct. Perhaps, if he were to explain what he is doing to me in the first place, I could. My hands move, and I see them--ten perfectly crafted digits, each one jointed, but also blackened. Also shutting down.

"Simon. S--"

I do not understand.
It is over. His hands fall. His eyes are open. The iris reflects the light and sends it to un-receiving nerves.
He is over. I--I do not see it. I do not know how. I do not know what has happened. 

I do. 
I do not want to.
He is over. 
And in a day, when the black in my body spreads,
I will be over as well.

 For Flash Fiction Month, this one was supposed to have the end of the world. It does, sort of, and it makes me sad. I've actually toyed with this character for a long time.