The Clock

Long ago, there was a clock.

This clock was nothing special. It ticked and tocked like any other clock, yet people were drawn to it.

Something so simple but useful.

Some would use it in their daily routines for productivity and chores. Where it reminded others of the time that had been wasted.

Tick, Tock.

Tick, Tock.

Parents would point it out to their children, explaining how they used it as a checkpoint on their way to school.

A delivery man used it to take note of his next delivery he would make every afternoon.

Tick, Tock.

Tick, Tock.

A shopkeeper looked back and forth between it and the television in anticipation, as he watched a rocket ship land on a foreign planet.

The cheers of people bringing in the New Year, as they watched the hands strikes midnight.

Tick, Tock.

Tick, Tock.

A soldier gazes at its face, wondering if he will ever have time with his friends and family again.

Debris and flashes of light reflect off the glass, as a new dawn approaches.

Tick, Tock.

Tick, Tock.

All is still as the dust settles, the clock lies on the ground with no disturbance

A lonely dog rests his head upon its cold mechanical body, tired and worn as the clock ticks on.

Tick, Tock.

Tick, Tock.

The clock ticks slow, as it reaches a close.

The body all but gone, yet time carries on.

After all, this clock was nothing special.

It ticked and tocked like any other clock.

Tick, Tock.

Tick.