2026.
Hazel had long since fallen asleep.
Amidst the various collectables and antiques nestled here and there around Atticus' living room, a great big grandfather clock stood silent and proud above all the rest. The hands on it's white face aimed upwards, indicating that it was just a little after midnight. Behind the glass, by the foot of the clock, the long brass pendulum swung to and fro in a sleepy, hypnotic rhythm. Constantly moving, but never changing.
To and fro...
Back and forth...
A deep ticking sound emanated from within the wood every time the pendulum swung. Quietly resonating throughout the entire room as if it were a heartbeat made of metal and wood. It gently marked each passing second, knowing that every moment, no matter how short, was vital and beautiful in its own right. A soft, constant tick.
Tick...
Tock...
To and fro...
Back and forth...
A beautiful moment of quiet, embraced by the comforting darkness of night. And then-
BAM!