The Elderly Man and the Clock

Okay people, go easy on me, this is my first "Vital Mice" that I've posted. Enjoy, and let me know what you think!

The Elderly Man and the Clock

© 2009

The Elderly Man sits down, with an old Book of sorts, and begins rocking back and forth. Back and forth he sways, as the Rocking Chair whines in rolling cadence with the ‘tick…tock…’ of the Grandfather Clock. The Grandfather Clock chimes, out of tune, yet in perfect harmony with the Elderly Man’s wheezing. Ah, but look now! Neon Raindrops are dripping from the ceiling! However, the myriad of colors do not seem to catch the Man’s attention. Instead, He has stopped breathing all together. The Elderly Man is asleep now.

36 hundred ticks have passed. Take note! The Man is awake now. But alas! His pages are blanketed with white nothings. And how can this be? The Elderly Man’s Rocking Chair now faces a corner, like that of a dunce in time-out! The Grandfather Clock rests upon the ceiling. ‘Tick…tock…’

The ticking of the tock creates a fluid of neon orange that drips onto the floor. A gust of daunting wind blows the pages of the Elderly Man’s Book. And, what’s this? In the blink of an eye, the Book is now dangling in the air, against the upper corner of the White Room! Oh, how the Roots grow from the pages and climb down the walls lingeringly. They’ve taken hold of the Elderly Man’s Rocking Chair now! ‘Tick…tock…’

A Young Man, whose expression looks satisfied, is now in the opposite corner of the White Room. He wears a tuxedo, for it would appear that He is a Conductor. The Elderly Man looks at Him with an air of resignation. He has risen from the Rocking Chair by now, and has His hands deep in His pockets. The Rocking Chair becomes overgrown by the Book, while the Young Conductor raises His arms. He begins conducting the orchestra of neon. ‘Tick…tock…’

The ceiling of the White Room begins raining bright green Droplets. The floor transforms into white pages, presumably from the Old Book. It waves with the Young Conductor’s every movement. Yet all is silent. The Conductor points to the Elderly Man passively. He is asleep now.

36 hundred days have passed. The Elderly Man is awake now. The White Room exists no more. All is gone. By now the Conductor has disappeared, while the Man has a beard of grey that extends down to His waist. He sees a wooden rod levitating in front of Him. He takes it. The Elderly Man conducts, ‘tick…tock…’