Tick Tock

The clock is at my parents'. I stayed there the first night, the night she went missing. You keep thinking she'd appear at the door, peering in as the thousand other times. I kept peeking, just light shining on empty space. I knew she was out there. Somewhere. I almost hoped she had passed away, I'd find her in the morning. Peaceful, though not me, she would've died alone, wondering if I would show up to help her. It's hard to find a black dog at night, in the woods, deaf to all but her own thoughts. I wonder what she thought.

I tried to sleep. I would get up first thing to search, to find her. I knew I would find her. Where I did not know, alive I did not think.

That clock, though.

It's a fake clock. Like a grandfather clock, it doesn't tick. I don't think. It chimes, a song. Ten seconds worth, every quarter hour. Everything else was silent, I wanted to hear my dog if she came home. All I heard was the clock. Every fifteen minutes. Dum, dum dum dum dum dum, dum, dum, dum dum dum dum dum, dum, dum-dum-dum-dum-dum. I tried to turn my mind off, didn't work. I tried to turn the clock off, didn't work. The only things I heard all night were things I didn't want to hear. Morning would come, right? I'd have the energy to find her, right? Maybe she'd be there in the morning, her bark snuffing the chimes.