Tik...Toc...Tik...Toc...

The clock on my wall is my only friend here, throughout years and years it is the only honest thing that I can count on. Through its simple sound; it comforts me with the thought, time will pass. This I have always known however, it has taken me a while to accept.

I have had many loves to look after, all of one liniage and all with an aroma of regret. Wine glasses turned to whiskey bottles turned to beer and back into wine every 60 years or so like clockwork. And through the sound of days ticking by I have come to believe that my loves hate me. I reek of the one thing they most desire and serve as a reminder of the time that has passed. It is not their fault, I do not blame them, they are constantly met with peaceful faces and when I look into their eyes I see a deep longing.

Funny how they help so many others with peace, but struggle with their own.

And when their desires are granted be it by their hands or someone else's I cradle them deep in my bosom and shower them with the love they have shown to so many before them. Time does not pass for those in my care but it does still pass, and there has not been a new bottle opened yet. Only dust and sheets are left for my old creaking walls and I...am content with that.

Ya know, I always thought I would die alone but there was never any sadness in my tone when those words would dance from my tongue. I never truly knew this kind of love, truly new to it I suppose; People say you fall but this was more like a shove. You made me see the beauty in relationships and handed me a colorful kaleidoscope bursting with possibilities waiting to be nurtured into fruition. I could travel to the ends of the earth, shout my loves name from every rooftop of every skyscraper in every city and still feel as though you will never know how much I truly love you.

A heavy old book, a dustcloud and a gust of wind. My fingers graze the soft pages

that smelled faintly of vanilla. Ouch. How can such soft pages make such a cut? A drop lands on the empty page and like a water droplet entering the still pond; it rippled. Neat lines of ink come into focus and before i knew it my lips were moving on their own. The passage read "I shall grant you evergrowing power, it will give you the strength to overcome your obstecles, defeat your enemys, win the heart of your lover, topple kings and queens alike! You will be a consistantly growing unstopable force, just like your strength. As you start to age your power will not stop growing, you will be overcome by it and driven to maddness because of it. Rejoice! for i have bestowed upon you the gift of a new life and Repay me for my kindness tenfold with that which i need." Silence. Then, screams as i felt the overwhelming strength start to course through my veins the air leaving my lungs, and my vision was blurred by red but the feeling, wasn't all that bad...

As my world burned around me, a river of chaos ensued and this version of humanity met it's inevitable downfall yet, I found myself smiling. See this may not have been the end you wanted for this world Luisa in fact you would be yelling and screaming at me had you been here to witness what i'd done, but a world harsh enough to snuff out your flame is a world that i don't want to be apart of. So, I'll burn it all down along with the memories of us, oh Luisa i'm sure our story would have ended differently had we been born in a different life.

Sit down and write without planning?

hmm, you'd have to feel inspired for somthing like that.

I'm not an inspiring person, or maybe its the fact that inspiration is fleeting

sorta like a stray cat.

A poem comes to mind filled with rhythm and rhyme, but then i realized and said aloud to the empty four walls of my house "ah yes, i forgot i am incapable of writing poetry with a simple rhyme scheme." And so she turnd her once impeccably uninspiring poem about insparation into a prose about irony and wishful thinking. "How unfortunate" she sighed.

Tick...Tick...Tick

Every year, once a year, he comes back. He sits across from me in that same shiny leather chair with one leg atop of the other and a gastly smirk on his crooked face. And every year, once a year, I sit with his old pipe in my hand that i used to gouge his eye out that night and smoke from it while staring him down.

"Still as vile as ever i see." He said picking up his whiskey glass and pouring himself another drink.

"If i'm so vile why do you return to me every year?" I ask a small smile gracing my lips.

"Once a year doll, and to remind you of what you did to your dear.old.husband." He spat the last words out of his mouth as if they left venom on his tongue.

"Husband? You mean ex husband, till death do we part but it seems one of us got there before the oth-" Before the final word could finish leaving my mouth he grabbed me by my arm and pulled me close staring into my eyes with his one.

"Death...is not parting us doll, I will always be here with you. Every year, Once a year and you WILL remember me." He stated his grip on my arm tightened around me and no matter how hard I tried i couldn't hide the giant smirk that was crawling across my face. As soon as he noticed i leaned in and whispered-

"Yes dear, YOU will always be here. I'm selling the house but keeping the pipe so you can beat up on some other poor bastards wife," and pushed him back. He lost his footing and fell back in his chair looking up at me eye filled with mallice however, shrinking backwards in his chair as i walked towards him and cupped his face.

"it's time for you to go, doll" I said with a condescending smirk as the clock struck 12 and the bell in the grand clock my late husband loved so much rung out filling the house with beautiful vibrations. I closed my eyes letting the sound embrace me and the sound of what may have been a scream declaring vengance barely reached my ears before it was gone. And I satisfied with my work picked up the unfinshed glass of whiskey and sat in front of my fireplace enjoying a quiet night with my favorite pipe.

Who walked upon me? Why, the people i loved the most. The pitter patter of their feet hitting the cold hard wood floor filled me with great sorrow so i laid myself at their feet so that they may be comfortable. They would use me all the time so i thought they loved me just as much however, when i was stained and drained to the point you couldn't tell one color on my rugged back from the next, they rolled me up and threw me out.

She could barely hear the laughter over the sound of the rats running ramped in the streets of what was now a decrepit old town.

"Even the smartest man in our village couldn't get rid of them, what makes you think we believe you can do it? Though you are quite the pretty young thing, mabye we can make use of you elsewhere" An intense feeling of disgust crawled its way up her spie and she had to fight it from showing on her face as she pulled out her Pipe.

"I don't provide those types of services, I'll take cash payment for getting rid of the rats and nothing else."

"You'll get your payment after you get rid of the rats." The mayor said but he is more politician than man. Regardless of the outcome he had never planned to pay the woman for her time. After she led the rats out of town the mayor banned her from returning and well, hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.

That very night she used her pipes beautiful song almost like a siren to lead all of the men from their bed and off of a cliff. When the town women had awoke they found half of the towns money missing and their husbands wedding rings on their bedside table but at least their kids were safe and sound.