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The heavy clock.
It never felt heavier.
Bea only ever held it a couple of times; taking it off the shelf for dusting and what have you.
Now she held it in both her trembling hands, hoping to drop it, to break the spell she cast for herself.
But she couldn’t.
It wouldn’t.
The heavy clock felt even heavier, fused to her under a dark annexation.
Shivers and heat fought over her skin. Everything was so still as she stood fixed to that spot in that hallway in that house.
At that time.
Time ceased to tick for her. She doubted it ever would again.
She needed to breathe. Fresh air was only feet away but she needed to walk to the front door.
Holding the heavy, heavy clock, stepping over a heavy, heavy man who lay at her feet.
Where the world once lay
 
Photo Claustrophobi by Cati Kaoe reproduced with kind permission from her website
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