The Clock Strikes its Final

The Clock Strikes its Final Hour


There wasn’t a noise in the house besides the faint clicking of pans and water running in the kitchen.  The man entered the parlor and walked to his same old chair, his wife busy in the next room preparing dinner.  As he sat, the familiar squeak echoed through the room.  He lifted the novel he’d been reading off of the small table next to him and flipped through the pages and with notes written in the side margins.
Clack.
He looked up, bewildered.  He specifically heard the noise.  His eyes landed on the clock above the mantle, but it was ticking soundlessly from its home next to the family portrait as usual.  He shrugged it off with a grunt and focused back on the words in front of him.  Soon enough he was absorbed, scribbling down notes on the wrinkled white pages.
Clack.
He eyed around the room suspiciously over the bridge of the silver spectacles.  Again, he knew he had heard the distinct clacking noise.  However, he swallowed his annoyance and exhaled sharply before adjusting his position in the chair and returning to the novel.
Clack.
The noise came again.
“Dear would you please stop making all that noise?” He snapped, slamming the book closed and turning around in his chair to face the kitchen.
“I’ll try, darling.” She said diligently with a sigh.
Clack.
The man instantly turned back around as his beady dark eyes searched the room.  There shouldn’t be any noise.  He had chosen this house specifically for the fact there were no children around to disturb him.  And there were no clocks besides the one on the mantle.  He looked around for anything that might be broken and his eyes landed on the piano.  He put the book down and stood up, wincing slightly as his lower back made a grotesque noise.  Upon reaching the piano, he leant his ear towards the keys to listen.
Clack.
He stood up on the stool and rummaged through the inside, searching almost madly for the culprit behind the distracting and quite annoying noise.
“Darling!  Get out of the piano!  Your great grandmother made that piano.” She ordered.  She walked over and hit the keys with her finger, but no sound emitted from it.  “You’ve ruined it!” She said.
“Good riddance! Maybe that clatter will stop now.” He grumbled, easing back off of the bench and huffing over to the chair.  He took his seat, mumbling under his breath, and returned to the book.  His wife walked back to the kitchen whispering something under her breath.  He opened his book, repositioned his glasses, and began to read again.
“Finally, peace and—“
Clack.
His eyes widened and darted around the room.
He looked towards the entry way just as his old silver cat, Molly, meowed upon her entrance and jumped up on the ottoman a few feet away from the chair, making a soft thud that sent a puff of smoke into the air.  She then jumped to the book shelf next to him where her bed silently awaited her.  She stretched out in the sunshine and purred happily.
Clack.
He stood up with a deep growl and rushed to the clock, grasping it and suddenly throwing it towards the window, which shattered at contact.  The cat screamed in alarm and rushed to get out of the broken glass.  He caught the cat mid-jump and shook it viciously.
“Shut up! Mangy hair ball!” He said, dropping the cat.  
“Darling what on earth are you doing?!” His wife cried as she scooped up the frightened cat and walked to him.
Clack.
“Stop making all the noise!” He exclaimed, grabbing his book and sending it flying into the kitchen at his wife.  She screamed just as the book came in contact with her nose and she was forced backward into the kitchen.  She fell to the floor with a thud, silent.  The cat scrambled away, leaving numerous bleeding scratches on her arms.  He shook away his frustration and picked up the book, wiping it on his pants to get rid of the crimson stains.  He turned off the water that was left running and turned the beeping oven off.  He stopped on his way back to the kitchen and froze.  Suddenly, he strode back in and ripped all of the drawers out of the cabinets and emptied the kitchen dry.  He wheezed for a moment and calmed down before returning to the parlor, sure that all of the potential noises in the house had been ridden of.  He smiled and daintily put his glasses back on as he eased into the chair.  He lifted up the book and returned to his page, still smiling calmly.
Clack.