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Im making this up as i go along. I haven't even got a basic idea.. Ahwell. Time goes on... hmmm... hmm..
Tom ran through the salloon doors of the old clock shop, eager just to get in an out as fast as he could. Everyone knew the old Clock Man was insane, a mad man. Some said he had been locked up, for being mad, apparently. Tom didn't really believe any of this, but he didn't want to hang around there anyway. Everyone knew the shop was haunted.
What did his gran want? She said it was a small ornate wooden clock, with gold numbers, was it? He couldn't remember! He looked around the room, eyeing up the clocks, desperatley trying to jog his memory.. but it was hopeless. He wouldn't stand a chance of finding it in here, but the alternative, too ask the Clock Man.. that was as insane as.. well the Clock Man. Not that he believed that. Not in the slightest.
"Need any help, Tom?"
Tom froze. That was the Clock Man, definitly. He was going to eat his brain, he could tell. How did he know his name? He could read minds! So he's reading mine now, Tom thought. Stop thinking... oh, oh.. maybe he wasn't going to eat my brain, Tom thought, I've just given him that idea... Oh, i'm going to die...
"Well?"
"U...uh... no, i was just.. how do you know my name?" Tom asked, just.
"I know your dear Gran, Tom. She told me you were coming, don't worry. She wanted you to know the truth."
"What?" Tom knew he should leave, but.. if his Gran wanted him too know.. He trusted his Gran.
"The truth. Tom, do you know how clocks work?"
Tom did know. A set of cogs and wheels turned and the hands went round. His Gran had always tried to tell him there was more to it, but he had none of it. Cogs made sense. He told The Clock Man this.
"Your Gran was right, there is more too it than that. Clock Men"
"Clock Men?" Absurd, Tom thought, but a story never hurt anyone. "Go on"
"Clock Men. Tiny little people tht live inside clocks, making the hands turn and the tocker tick, the ticker tock. There are no cogs inside clocks, Tom. Just tiny men, doing there jobs and i do mine and you do yours. Ever wonderec why the clocks turn back sometimes?"
"Something to do with the equator or.. something?"
"Ha... No. Twice a year, the Clock Men try to get people to notice them, a feeble attempt to gain some kind of recognision, for the great job they do for us. And as time goes by.. the Clock Men age. Faster than humans, and when they die, the clock dies."
"I dont believe it. You are just crazy"
"That maybe true, Tom, but im also a good listener"
"What?"
"If you press your ear against a clock, listen beyond the tocks and ticks, you can hear them sing:
tock tick, tick tock
we work all our lives away,
in this grandfather clock
"I dont believe you. Sorry old man, but your crazy" Tom left. He'd be sure to tell his Gran about that, thats for sure. The Old Clock Man really was crazy.
"That may be so, Tom. That maybe so.. but i'm also a great story teller"
And with that, the Old Clock Man winked.
tock tick, tick tock
we work all our lives away,
in this grandfather clock
Tom ran through the salloon doors of the old clock shop, eager just to get in an out as fast as he could. Everyone knew the old Clock Man was insane, a mad man. Some said he had been locked up, for being mad, apparently. Tom didn't really believe any of this, but he didn't want to hang around there anyway. Everyone knew the shop was haunted.
What did his gran want? She said it was a small ornate wooden clock, with gold numbers, was it? He couldn't remember! He looked around the room, eyeing up the clocks, desperatley trying to jog his memory.. but it was hopeless. He wouldn't stand a chance of finding it in here, but the alternative, too ask the Clock Man.. that was as insane as.. well the Clock Man. Not that he believed that. Not in the slightest.
"Need any help, Tom?"
Tom froze. That was the Clock Man, definitly. He was going to eat his brain, he could tell. How did he know his name? He could read minds! So he's reading mine now, Tom thought. Stop thinking... oh, oh.. maybe he wasn't going to eat my brain, Tom thought, I've just given him that idea... Oh, i'm going to die...
"Well?"
"U...uh... no, i was just.. how do you know my name?" Tom asked, just.
"I know your dear Gran, Tom. She told me you were coming, don't worry. She wanted you to know the truth."
"What?" Tom knew he should leave, but.. if his Gran wanted him too know.. He trusted his Gran.
"The truth. Tom, do you know how clocks work?"
Tom did know. A set of cogs and wheels turned and the hands went round. His Gran had always tried to tell him there was more to it, but he had none of it. Cogs made sense. He told The Clock Man this.
"Your Gran was right, there is more too it than that. Clock Men"
"Clock Men?" Absurd, Tom thought, but a story never hurt anyone. "Go on"
"Clock Men. Tiny little people tht live inside clocks, making the hands turn and the tocker tick, the ticker tock. There are no cogs inside clocks, Tom. Just tiny men, doing there jobs and i do mine and you do yours. Ever wonderec why the clocks turn back sometimes?"
"Something to do with the equator or.. something?"
"Ha... No. Twice a year, the Clock Men try to get people to notice them, a feeble attempt to gain some kind of recognision, for the great job they do for us. And as time goes by.. the Clock Men age. Faster than humans, and when they die, the clock dies."
"I dont believe it. You are just crazy"
"That maybe true, Tom, but im also a good listener"
"What?"
"If you press your ear against a clock, listen beyond the tocks and ticks, you can hear them sing:
tock tick, tick tock
we work all our lives away,
in this grandfather clock
"I dont believe you. Sorry old man, but your crazy" Tom left. He'd be sure to tell his Gran about that, thats for sure. The Old Clock Man really was crazy.
"That may be so, Tom. That maybe so.. but i'm also a great story teller"
And with that, the Old Clock Man winked.
tock tick, tick tock
we work all our lives away,
in this grandfather clock
I liked that.
I was waiting for an ending though, so was quite surprised at how it finished, but it was still good. I think perhaps leaving the ending open sometimes makes a story like this better...
I was waiting for an ending though, so was quite surprised at how it finished, but it was still good. I think perhaps leaving the ending open sometimes makes a story like this better...
Im making this up as i go along. I haven't even got a basic idea.. Ahwell. Time goes on... hmmm... hmm..
Tom ran through the salloon doors of the old clock shop, eager just to get in an out as fast as he could. Everyone knew the old Clock Man was insane, a mad man. Some said he had been locked up, for being mad, apparently. Tom didn't really believe any of this, but he didn't want to hang around there anyway. Everyone knew the shop was haunted.
What did his gran want? She said it was a small ornate wooden clock, with gold numbers, was it? He couldn't remember! He looked around the room, eyeing up the clocks, desperatley trying to jog his memory.. but it was hopeless. He wouldn't stand a chance of finding it in here, but the alternative, too ask the Clock Man.. that was as insane as.. well the Clock Man. Not that he believed that. Not in the slightest.
"Need any help, Tom?"
Tom froze. That was the Clock Man, definitly. He was going to eat his brain, he could tell. How did he know his name? He could read minds! So he's reading mine now, Tom thought. Stop thinking... oh, oh.. maybe he wasn't going to eat my brain, Tom thought, I've just given him that idea... Oh, i'm going to die...
"Well?"
"U...uh... no, i was just.. how do you know my name?" Tom asked, just.
"I know your dear Gran, Tom. She told me you were coming, don't worry. She wanted you to know the truth."
"What?" Tom knew he should leave, but.. if his Gran wanted him too know.. He trusted his Gran.
"The truth. Tom, do you know how clocks work?"
Tom did know. A set of cogs and wheels turned and the hands went round. His Gran had always tried to tell him there was more to it, but he had none of it. Cogs made sense. He told The Clock Man this.
"Your Gran was right, there is more too it than that. Clock Men"
"Clock Men?" Absurd, Tom thought, but a story never hurt anyone. "Go on"
"Clock Men. Tiny little people tht live inside clocks, making the hands turn and the tocker tick, the ticker tock. There are no cogs inside clocks, Tom. Just tiny men, doing there jobs and i do mine and you do yours. Ever wonderec why the clocks turn back sometimes?"
"Something to do with the equator or.. something?"
"Ha... No. Twice a year, the Clock Men try to get people to notice them, a feeble attempt to gain some kind of recognision, for the great job they do for us. And as time goes by.. the Clock Men age. Faster than humans, and when they die, the clock dies."
"I dont believe it. You are just crazy"
"That maybe true, Tom, but im also a good listener"
"What?"
"If you press your ear against a clock, listen beyond the tocks and ticks, you can hear them sing:
tock tick, tick tock
we work all our lives away,
in this grandfather clock
"I dont believe you. Sorry old man, but your crazy" Tom left. He'd be sure to tell his Gran about that, thats for sure. The Old Clock Man really was crazy.
"That may be so, Tom. That maybe so.. but i'm also a great story teller"
And with that, the Old Clock Man winked.
tock tick, tick tock
we work all our lives away,
in this grandfather clock
Tom ran through the salloon doors of the old clock shop, eager just to get in an out as fast as he could. Everyone knew the old Clock Man was insane, a mad man. Some said he had been locked up, for being mad, apparently. Tom didn't really believe any of this, but he didn't want to hang around there anyway. Everyone knew the shop was haunted.
What did his gran want? She said it was a small ornate wooden clock, with gold numbers, was it? He couldn't remember! He looked around the room, eyeing up the clocks, desperatley trying to jog his memory.. but it was hopeless. He wouldn't stand a chance of finding it in here, but the alternative, too ask the Clock Man.. that was as insane as.. well the Clock Man. Not that he believed that. Not in the slightest.
"Need any help, Tom?"
Tom froze. That was the Clock Man, definitly. He was going to eat his brain, he could tell. How did he know his name? He could read minds! So he's reading mine now, Tom thought. Stop thinking... oh, oh.. maybe he wasn't going to eat my brain, Tom thought, I've just given him that idea... Oh, i'm going to die...
"Well?"
"U...uh... no, i was just.. how do you know my name?" Tom asked, just.
"I know your dear Gran, Tom. She told me you were coming, don't worry. She wanted you to know the truth."
"What?" Tom knew he should leave, but.. if his Gran wanted him too know.. He trusted his Gran.
"The truth. Tom, do you know how clocks work?"
Tom did know. A set of cogs and wheels turned and the hands went round. His Gran had always tried to tell him there was more to it, but he had none of it. Cogs made sense. He told The Clock Man this.
"Your Gran was right, there is more too it than that. Clock Men"
"Clock Men?" Absurd, Tom thought, but a story never hurt anyone. "Go on"
"Clock Men. Tiny little people tht live inside clocks, making the hands turn and the tocker tick, the ticker tock. There are no cogs inside clocks, Tom. Just tiny men, doing there jobs and i do mine and you do yours. Ever wonderec why the clocks turn back sometimes?"
"Something to do with the equator or.. something?"
"Ha... No. Twice a year, the Clock Men try to get people to notice them, a feeble attempt to gain some kind of recognision, for the great job they do for us. And as time goes by.. the Clock Men age. Faster than humans, and when they die, the clock dies."
"I dont believe it. You are just crazy"
"That maybe true, Tom, but im also a good listener"
"What?"
"If you press your ear against a clock, listen beyond the tocks and ticks, you can hear them sing:
tock tick, tick tock
we work all our lives away,
in this grandfather clock
"I dont believe you. Sorry old man, but your crazy" Tom left. He'd be sure to tell his Gran about that, thats for sure. The Old Clock Man really was crazy.
"That may be so, Tom. That maybe so.. but i'm also a great story teller"
And with that, the Old Clock Man winked.
tock tick, tick tock
we work all our lives away,
in this grandfather clock