The Timekeeper


By Daniel Cuthbert

He rose at the usual hour, showering and then changing into the dark blue suit he so often liked to wear. The house was silent apart from the incessant soft tick of the clock in the front hall. The clock, a wedding present, had been a family heirloom, saturated in Italian heritage before journeying across the sea towards its now current resting place. The deep mahogany finish and ability to run on its own energy was meant to signify the rich, steady, tireless nature of the wedded union.

Which made the subsequent gunshot quite the retort.


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