I threw the clock out the window. It ticks and clicks in its unbearably accurate rhythm. I hear it. Everywhere I go it is there.

It is like that bad memory stuck in the back of your head which You wish would be gone. But still it clicks. It is screaming like a cacophony. Erupting in its harsh, on-time ticks. Even when I leave my house I hear it.

I imagine it. Counting down my time left. Begging for the time it misses a tick or click. Begging for the handles to stop twirling for life.

Begging for the batteries to run out.

Begging for my batteries to fall out.