This is something I came up with from a writing prompt from 1,000 Creative Writing Prompts by Cohen. Read it in your best noire voice!
It was that time of the year again. Time, I’m always running out of time and now it is my time. I remember when I was just budding, the liquid of life coursing through me. Then I expanded, I grew in the sun and the warmth of summer. Not long ago, I felt it deep within me, I’m running out of time. I thought I imagined the cooling of the weather. But the more I thought about it, the more I felt it. It started with the liquid of life; it started to trickle instead of course. I felt myself get brittle, I no longer can perform photosynthesis. My sides are changing colors: purple, red, and brown. It’s not my imagination any more. I can feel it. It’s coming! Great ATP, it’s here! My death! I feel that I am barely holding AAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!