Talking Clock Novels & Stories

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!

he says, gesturing over his shoulder with a thumb to indicate the little metal clock, “would wake the dead. And it doesn’t turn off if it fails to charge overnight.” “Oh, and shall I light your lantern for you, my lord, so that you may see in the dark?” I tease, laughing a little. “And in the morning, we shall tie a message to the foot of your swiftest pigeon, so you can communicate with those you love who live afar –“ “Shut up,” Kent growls at me, but he’s laughing too as he gathers me into his arms before laying on his back. “And one day, you shall throw out your abacus, because they shall invent a mighty machine called a calculator which will add great sums –“

"Stay close. We might need you." 11:56. The house is silent except for the ticking of the antique clock in the corner. Tick, tick, tick. Each sound like a countdown to something terrible. 11:58. Mira's grip on my hand tightens. The fake Nora sinks back onto the sofa, pulling her knees up to her chest. 11:59. I refresh my inbox. Nothing. Refresh again. Still nothing. The clock strikes midnight. Twelve chimes, deep and resonant, filling the house.

People tried to talk me into meeting her, said I should hear her out, clear the air. I'd already been clear. Once she crossed that line, I was gone. I pushed the mess out of my head and looked out at the lake. Annoyed, I flicked a stone into the water and watched the ripples spread. "You look unhappy. If you don't mind, you can talk to me about it." The clear, spring-soft voice at my ear made me freeze. I turned.

Somewhere in the house, the clock ticked steadily forward. Counting down to a conversation she could no longer avoid.

The interface was laughably simple, with only a banner at the top that promised that their fortunes were "Always Accurate!" Jamie scoffed and entered my name, and the interface loaded for a few moments, before a message appeared. [He's right next to you.] She shook her head, smiling bitterly as she moved her finger to turn off the application. But in that instant, I realized that I could somehow control the cursor, and under Jamie's startled gaze, I forced it to type out a single word. [Restroom.] Her eyes widened, clearly not quite comprehending what was going on in front of her.

Still, her joint dwelled in ache and her body loosened weakly that going to the kitchen seem to be an accomplishment. Just as she stepped out of her room, the grandfather stand clock on the clock wall caught her attention. The floral clock’s pointer is immobilized. It was her father’s– at least 8 feet tall, it strikes aloud every hour to resonate through the house but Sarah has muted it. It was an antique handmade clock with intricate carving resembling a lion’s feet and head on all 4 corners and a glass door at the bottom of the clock, weighing at least 120 kg. She needs a 4 feet ladder to comfortably wind the clock but since she was very tired, she reached for a ½ feet stool nearby, tip to

He didn't get what this was or why Keltrix was giving it to him. "This is a clock?" "I do not have a word for this in any language you know." Kel crossed his tentacles. "This is a book or a computer or a tablet or a phone or a game." Kel exhaled as if frustrated. "You teach it with your mind." He tapped the glass. The image of a number appeared in white lettering in the middle. "Humans have twenty-four hours as you watch your sun rise and set. This becomes days and weeks and years. Time matters to you for some reason."

*[SFX: CLOCK. THEN CALL. THEN FULL CLASS.]* *2:47 PM. [SFX: CLOCK. THEN PHONE. THEN SEVEN.]* *Malibu Beach House. Living Room. 2:47 PM.* Clock on mantle. _2:47_. Me. Adrian. Ivy. Isla. February. Bear. Phone on coffee table. FaceTime. Alex. Chair. 6 years, 11 months, 7 days. _CREW_ hat on. Shark backpack off. School done.

she whispered, her porcelain face chiseled with a terrible grin. "Now look at the clock." Through the sky above the copper cables a massive three-story bronze wheel, the central treasury clock of the capital, began to lower itself through the plum-colored clouds. The second hand of the clock was a thirty-foot double-edged steel guillotine that was falling toward the center of the lead registry with every tick. The time was three seconds to midnight. The steel wire inside Elara's palm gave a volcanic thump, the green numbers in her mind turning into a solid column of white zeros.