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Please remember that tonight, while you are sleeping, the clocks will change. They will shed their numbered faces, cases bursting like chrysalises. Their thin black hands will split and bend into insect legs, clawing down the wall and onto your prone body. As always, they will extract an hour of time. And as always, they will return in autumn to give the hour back. We recommend you do not stay awake for the re-implantation process. Better to simply arise the next morning, restored and unquestioning. Do not ask yourself where new clocks come from, or why, when you slow your breathing and silence the clamour of the world, you hear it. A faint ticking coming from deep within you. The rasp of some newly hatched clock hand scratching as it spins round and round and round inside your brain.
Short story written by Peter Chiykowski
website twitter facebook instagramStory prompt taken from a photo by Adam Kring
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