Tick Tock
Tick Tock Tick. T ock. Tick. Tock. The sound of the clock that was perched in the artist's bedroom never endingly provided a lulling, rhythmic pattern that was both comforting yet alluring at the same time. However, to the artist it was nothing more than a background noise. He never ev en glanced at the clock , it was merely there for decoration , an afterthought at most in his perfect, untroublesome life . It’s intricately laced gold outline glinted in the reflected light of many mirrors and shiny objects that filled the mansion . It stood on a pure white mantel piece that was neatly arranged with other fancy objects that were pleasant to the eye like: neatly stacked books or small plant pots that were slowly dying as the artist had no real care for anyone but himself. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. The artist was walking down a staircase in his vast mansion whistling tunelessly . The dull sound echoed through the many rooms and hallwa...