Seconds Hand (Otherwise Untitled)
#232 of Short Stories
A deer slips.
~ Under a sky that blazed across its width with arcs of lightening, the deer lost his footing in one of the dashes between the trees of the forest. As he skidded through the sluiced mud and gravel, his eyes again caught sight of the lights he'd hoped to be the city. With his arrival at a point that was more rocks than mud, his progress was halted and the shattering descent of thunderclaps paused long enough for him to hear the face of his wristwatch smashed into a rock, presumably an indication of how much longer before he could rest.