Sunday, January 16, 2011
Carriage
The carriage clock in the hallway is ticking away the seconds. It's a reproduction 1836 Garnier and is lovely. At the hour it will chime softly. Each second brings me closer to the end of my life. The end of my life is a lonely place. Death is a private thing, very intimate. Between the person the the universe, and the clock is measuring the steps.
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