One Word Prompts

Clock - Tick Tock

He sat in the library, the only sound the ticking of the grandfather clock in the center of the room. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

To either side stood tall doors with dark wood paneling. He watched them both, his eyes flicking between them in time the clock's brass pendulum. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

It was late. The clock said it was well past ten. The dark sky out the library windows confirmed it. He'd been sitting here for the past several hours. A book lay open in his lap, but he hadn't touched it in over an hour. He'd reread the same passage more times than he could count, each tick bringing his eyes another line down, but like the minute hand, his eyes always seemed to end up back at the top of the clock.

Neither door moved. He leaned back into his chair, readjusting his posture again. He knew there was no point in waiting so attentively. That was why he'd come to the library. He was supposed to study while he waited.

It would happen when it happened. If it happened.

Tick, tock.

His foot tapped. He stopped it. He started reading his book again. His foot resumed tapping. His eyes found themselves on the right door again. Then the left. Tick. The right. Tock. Neither moved.

He bit his lip, pressing one hand down on his bouncing leg. Patience was a virtue. He would wait. There was no other choice.

His foot started tapping again. Tick. Tock.

He stood. Sitting wasn't helping. He couldn't focus on the book. He closed it and set it on the table. Stretching he eyed the doors. The pendulum swung back. Both remained closed.

He strode to the window, keeping his back to the still doors. Bathed in moonlight, the courtyard lay still. The fountain silently spewing forth its twin streams was the only movement. No sign of a carriage in the distant driveway, no sign of anyone hurrying up to his door. Just the stoic moon and still stars above him.

He leaned in the window—Tick—gazing at the stars—Tock—resisting the urge to turn and watch the doors again.

It was a nice night. Tick. No clouds. Tock. A good night for her to visit, surely. Tick. Maybe she would really come tonight. Tock. Maybe he was waiting for nothing.

A rational man would turn in. No one would come calling this late. No message would be delivered now. These were things for tomorrow.

Yet he found himself pacing the length of the room. Tick. The doors stood still. Tock. But that didn't mean he needed to.

The two doors were supposed to be identical—tick—their dark wood matching the dark shelving of the library—tock—with flourishes to match the window's frame. Tick. But if you stared at the two long enough—tock—it was obvious that the center flourish of the right curled more—tick—and the left was of a darker wood. Tock. Now that he'd seen it he didn't know how he'd never noticed, but then, he'd never spent quite this much time watching them.

The echoing ticking of the grandfather clock was broken with eleven deeply toned chimes as the spade-tipped hour hand ticked over the elegant eleven of the clock's face. His eyes gravitated to the clock. Although it decreed the hour with reverberating confidence, it visibly was no different. It's pendulum still swinging in time to the ceaseless, if momentarily lost, ticking.

It was late. As the chimes ended and the quiet tick and tock of the pendulum again became the sole sound of the night, he made up his mind. Tick. He should just sleep. She was not arriving today. Tock. It would be tomorrow, or the day after.

He could wait. Tick. It was time to sleep. Long past time.

Shaking his head at his foolishness, he walked to the door. Tock. The right one.

As he put his hand on the handle, but before he could turn it, the latch clicked and the door swung inward, into him. He startled, stepping back.

"Ah, I'm sorry." It was a woman. One of her hands was still on the door handle, the other covered her mouth in surprise.

His mouth hung open too. Initially it had just been the shock from the door opening as he had tried to open it, but it remained open now as he stared at her.

"You're here," he managed to choke out.

She smiled. "You waited."