The Eternal Test

It was the eighth night I found myself sleepless. My mind ached, plagued that I was no closer to uncovering what caused it — that infernal, perpetual ticking. I had searched every drawer, cupboard, and closet. Yet, I'm no nearer the root of my madness.

Am I myself damned? My home turned into my cell. Dear friends call it an illusion of the mind, attributed to all those hours spent obsessing in my laboratory. But it can’t be so. I swear to them, it can’t be so.

And thus my nights have turned from relaxing retirement to unearthing the source of my restlessness.

Tonight, instead of hastily ransacking my once peaceful dwelling, I am still and I listen. Perhaps if I calm myself, I will draw out this curse.

The night carries an overwhelming chill. A cold so frigid, that it forces me to draw a fire in the dead of night. Icy minutes begin to melt as I hold close to the flames.

My oblivion subsides. Have the embers bewitched me? The ticking. It’s vanished. Has the ticking ceased? It can’t be so.

I find myself, again, still and listening. Nothing. Nothing at all. Oh, what sweet serenity. I feel at once giddy and relieved. My burden lifted. My life, as it once was, restored. What brought about its end? I find myself not caring, merely hypnotized by the silence.

And then a tidal wave of exhaustion hits me. I retire to bed. And I finally feel the ease of sleep surround me.

The night carries on quietly. The only noise that fills the home are the crackles of the fire as it nears its end. And with the last ember extinguished, a wrenched haunting restores itself.

Tick.

Tick. Tick.

Tick tss tick tss tick tss tick tss tick tss tick tss …

NOOOOO!!!!