And When He Heard The Clock He Cried
rating: +13+x


The sun rose on the bright September morning. The sun hugged the ground and overpowered the roof of a little house. On the second story of the inlet, in the second door to the left of the stairs, there was a room with a young boy who was covering his head under his sheets.

The young boy was trying to hide. This was the first day of his new school and it was apparent to his mother that he did not want to go.

"It's time to go to school," said his mother. She did not know why her son was afraid of going to school. Was it the teachers, the students, the homework? These were questions that one would expect a mother to ask in this situation, but they were not the ones that arose in her mind.

The single thought that encompassed her mind was the love for her son and she knew the proper way to display it.

"Honey, let me tell you. Whatever the obstacle that's blocking you right now you can overcome it. Do you know why? It's because you are my son. And I know it's impossible for my son to be stopped by anything…"


The sun began to set on the drab October evening. The trees undulated in the subtle wind that blew across the headstones in the cemetery. The early morning gloomy rainstorm turned the bright sky from a saturated blue into one of a lifeless, dull gray.

A man sat on a brown bench. He did not notice the signs of decay on the bench. The slow rot that was creeping along the side. The small nest of ants in the underside. The damp wood that left an imprint on his pants. It was as if he was a part of the decay of the bench itself.

The man's hands were on his face. On this quiet, peaceful day, after the storm had subsided, there was little sound in the air. The squish of mud from passing mourners, the buzzing of a nearby fly, the occasional thunder in the background. All was suppressed by the sound of the man sobbing. The man had been coming to this area for long stretches of time for four weeks now.

"We should head back to the dorm, it's starting to get late and we should get something to eat." The man didn't perceive the words of the man who had been his friend for 14 years.

"I don't want to, Mason, I really…" his friend plopped down next to him on the bench.

The creak from the decaying wood jolted life into the bench as the insects started to scurry and the soft sob of the man came to an end.

"You know, when someone passes, it's best to think of the great things that they did in their life. Don't just wallow in your depression," said Mason, interrupting the otherwise lethargic environment.

"I have an idea of how to get your spirits up. Tell me what you remember about her. I know for a fact that whenever I came over she made the best after-school snacks. Remember the time she made those home-made pizza bagels? We ate those for a week straight!"

Mason sounded eager to discuss memories, but, hidden inside, he was also in grief at the loss of his friend's mother, for they were also close. But he knew that making his friend feel better was the goal.

"Hmph, I guess." Mason was fine with this response, despite the bluntness with which it was said.

At least he isn't completely in grief now, Mason thought. "Okay, now it's your turn. What do you remember about your mom that makes you happy?"

"…Now that I think about it there is one thing that I really fondly remember. It was how she knew exactly what to say to keep my self-confidence up. During middle school, I was afraid of that guy, Xander, but she told me that the only person I should fear is her."

Mason and his friend started to laugh. Suddenly, a frown grew on the face of the man.

"That's the one thing I miss the most, somehow she knew how to make me feel better any time I wanted. Every time I woke up, she made me call her to make sure I was safe. Now I won’t be able to hear her voice in the morning ever again. I just wish I could hear her again, somehow, some way…"

"I know she hated tech, but do you at least have some recording or video?" Mason asked excitedly. Finally he had something to latch onto. Something to put the lamenting heart of the man to rest and maybe his own too.

"No, I can only hear her when I remember her, it's like she only exists in my mind now."

"Damn, that sucks." Mason laid back with his hands behind his head. Suddenly, a spark lit in his mind.

"Hey, you know Todd from gen physics class a year ago?" said Mason.

"Yeah, I remember him… I don't know him, he always fiddled with some Raspberry Pi in the back of the class." As they spoke the gray clouds began to part and a few rays of sun shined throughout the graveyard.

"I heard from Alyssa that he became an intern at a some new age tech company or something."

"How is that relevant to me at all?…" Unknown to the men the wind picked up, stirring the leaves of the trees as Mason brought up his plan.

"I don't know exactly, but Alyssa was drinking with him at Harvey's about two months back and heard that he is working with something concerning the brain and memories. I'm not sure about the specifics though" said Mason in an animated tone, which juxtaposed the surrounding environment.

Mason knew full well what he was saying would not lead to anything. He just assumed that in order to slowly make his friend feel better he would need to get him out of the cemetery.

"Yo, let's go to his dorm, it's the big one on Sinclair Campus. Maybe he knows how to access more memories of your mom through some lucid dreaming type thing. At the very least we should do something constructive." Begrudgingly, the man stood up and started walking away with his friend.

"He'll either not answer or kick us to the curb," thought Mason.

But Mason was wrong.

Item Description: A gray analog alarm clock that sounds like the owner's primary maternal figure when reaching its set specific time.
Date of Recovery: 10-28-2015
Location of Recovery: Ithaca, New York
Current Status: Kept in storage. Destroyed by Agent ███████. Agent reprimanded.

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