Grandfather Clock - Julia Kinney
We sat, time moving like a snail. My thoughts clouded my mind, imploding my senses and making my body twitch. Years had been spent learning how to control this, but it was undone in a single moment.
Tick, tick. The old clock struck in the hall. That cramped office tucked away in a small apartment smelled of mildew, there were no windows, and the floors creaked when you moved even an inch. The carpeted floors were in the colors of my grandmother's house: different shades of brown and murky reds.
Tick, tick. I tried to keep my mind off that ticking clock, but it was either that constant sound pricking my mind like spider pincers or the raging storm that was moments away from making my head explode. The papers sat uncomfortably in my lap, the weight like a sack of Flour.
Tick, tick. He shifted next to me. Though there was a small table in between us, I could hear his breath and feel his body right there. My heart raged; sadness and denial had been occupants for far too long, and this newfound freedom was only creating an empty pit.
Tick, tick. It bewildered me how everything had changed so suddenly. Now, I wished those memories could clear away as did morning fog. I didn’t want to burden myself with him ever again.
Tick, tick. I willed for her to open the door. Would she ever? I’d relive this once, twice more, then he would disappear. And so would that ticking clock.
Tick, tick. It stood, towering over me. It’s bronze gears and fading brown trim smiling at me, sinister.
Tick, tick. I wanted to hide from it, even more than from him. Then, she appeared from the doorway, the light so bright.
Julia Kinney is a senior at UAlbany and is graduating this May with a Bachelors in English. Her official writers page is j.v.kinney on Instagram and she can be reached at juliavkinney@outlook.com .