Fake Movie Friday Submissions: The Clock

Ashley Carter’s weekly reminder that she is in fact a crazy person:

Hi Guys,

So apparently I just write the material movies are based on now. This will one day be made into a coming of age movie. Or maybe an experimental film done entirely from household objects’ points of view. Enjoy!

The Clock

When Mary was young, a small little thing,
she would play in the yard, on the tree swing.
From the window, he watched her as she had fun,
In his spot in the corner, away from the sun.
He could not join her, no matter how much he yearned,
but it was all worth it, the second she turned,
and looked at his face with her childish glee,
and reminded him he was just lucky to be.

In the corner he watched as she continued to grow,
Through seasons and sunsets, through rain and through snow.
He watched over her there, her strong stalwart knight,
as she sat at his feet, to both their delight.
He longed and he wished that he could just say,
all the words he was thinking, but to his dismay,
whenever he tried, nothing was heard,
he could not speak, not one paltry word.

As time passed, Mary no longer came close,
through those lingering day, he grew more morose.
But one day she walked by him, and stopped to pause,
and pondered him there, then opened her jaws:
“Mother, don’t you think that it’s time,
to get rid of this clock, it doesn’t even chime!
It is just an old heap of coils and clump,
I’ll give you a hand, we’ll go to the dump.”

As he realized what she was going to do,
he started to think, become angry and stew.
After all of those years of his friendship and duty,
she treats him like this? With distaste and with cruelty!
His anger short lived, he soon just gave up.
And Mary loaded him onto the truck.
The ride to the dump was both too fast and too slow,
he sat there and cried, he did not want to go.

He thought of the good times, which outweighed the bad,
he cried to himself, all dejected and sad.
He realized that this was truly the end,
when he smelled the garbage, as they rounded the bend.
As Mary pushed him onto the waste,
she couldn’t help but look into his face.
For a second it seemed, the old clock was crying.
Was it aware? Did it know it was dying?
“Of course not,” she thought as she walked away,
but that vision still haunts her, to this very day.

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