Milking The Clock Meaning Novels & Stories

Bond with the clock as one and see beyond its full potential in order to get there. The time was 12:05pm when Ara closed his eyes and opened them again keeping them fixed on the clock and doing his possible best to obey the instructions of the dead old man from 8yrs ago. He was now doing his best to create an atmosphere where only the clock and his self-coexisted. On that night at the hospital, he recalled the clock the sick old man had asked him to focus on was an analogue clock but the running seconds on the digital clock with the scoreboard didn’t make a difference to him as he focused his eyes and mind on it attentively. When it came to shutting out the world and isolating one’s self, he

He was becoming the young, haunted soldier I had met in the freezing winds of the North ten years ago. "The Clock!" Philip yelled. His voice was the only thing that sounded the same, perhaps because his blindness made him a fixed point in a world of shifting light. "Elara, the Clock of First Causes is erasing the present to pay for the past! If it reaches the Day of the Fall, the 'New Buyer' can change the outcome! We will never have met! The children will never have been born!" We ran into the Great Hall. The air inside was thick as honey, vibrating with a deep, rhythmic thrum-thrum-thrum.

Until he completely forgot the time. And the exam arrived, Ardina seriously worked on it and hoped to pass with the best score. Time was ticking endlessly, second by second tracing each number in the clock hanging on the wall. Then there are minutes that come and take away seconds that are getting lost in time. The clock has replaced the minutes until the bell rings. The test mark is over.

Mila When the clock struck six o’clock in the evening I was half afraid that the sky would open up and God himself would peer down at me to lend me some best of luck. But nothing like that happened, neither did the floor split apart to swallow me up as I prayed. What really happened was the phone on my desk ringing, making me jump in my chair and when I picked it up, his cold authoritative, filled with irritation voice snapped into my ear. “Its already four minutes past six, Miss Clinton, why aren’t you downstairs already.”

"No!! It wasn't supposed to go this way!! You are supposed to give me the money." I glanced at the door, then the clock. I have eight seconds until the time is up. I moved from one foot to another, thinking and weighing mu chances. I want this money. I need the money. "Three." The clock seemed to count down, mocking me. "I'll do it," I shouted. Zyran raised an eyebrow, "Do what?" "I'll suck you off." I rushed out, just as the clock chimed. "Alright then," he turned slightly so that his legs weren't under the table anymore but he could still focus on whatever he was reading.

Tick, tock, tick, tock, tick, tock, tick, tock, tick, tock, tick, tock, tick. "Jefferson.." I need to get away. "Jefferson, calm down." The room. It's spinning. Tick, tock, tick, tock.. "I told you we needed to wait! Jefferson. Baby. Look at me." Why is that fucking clock so loud? Someone turn it off! Tick, tock, tick, tock.. "Jefferson? Baby?" Turn off that fucking clock! Tick, tock, tick, tock... Turn the damn thing off!

The universe must have conspired against me, because everything that could go wrong, did go wrong. I lay on my stomach, eyes trained on the clock, willing the minutes to go by faster. Every second that ticked by felt like an eternity, as I counted down to the moment when the clock would strike twelve. I could feel my heart racing in my chest, and my palms were sweating with anticipation. The seconds seemed to crawl by, but finally, finally, the clock struck twelve and I could release the breath I'd been holding.

Long Island, The Gold Coast MacKenzie Martin rubbed her eyes, which were blurred from staring too long at her computer screen. The antique clock hanging behind her desk ticked away, and she could see the numbers reflected on the monitor. Ten minutes before eleven. It had been a really long day and she just wanted to be done with her work.

“Leaking information, my ass. I don’t want his damn money.” I headed upstairs to Milka, my little secret, and held her to me, waiting for her sobs to become gentle sniffs, and for “Dadda” to change to “Mama.” Ten p.m. Eleven thirty p.m. One a.m. Two fifteen a.m. And now, three a.m. I walked into Milka’s room on autopilot, shaking a bottle of milk, and lifted her out of her crib. Maybe she’ll take this now. Hopefully it’ll settle her. If she stops crying long enough to drink more than a mouthful.

Missy speaks first, just as somewhere deep in the deathly stillness of the house, a clock begins to strike midnight, "Mommy senses her little girl is hungry...so very hungry." "Yes Mommy I am." "I think it's time for your midnight feeding sweetheart. Would you like to..." Missy slips one finger under Ellie's chin, raising it so she now is looking up into her eyes as she says so very softly, "Suckle on your mommy's big boobies." "Oh God yes Mommy please like your like girl suck on them. Pretty please Mommy, I promise I will do a really good job."