Ticking, it’s glass case shone like a beady eye under the stark moonlight. I didn’t have long. I dug through the sand, my fingernails were clogged with the hard grains as I furiously gouged at the cold beach. Waves broke meekly behind me. I dug deeper, widening the crag I had made tonight. My fingertips were raw, throbbing, but I had to finish this. The ticking went on, unending, like a mechanical pulse beating. I scrabbled the last of the sand away and desperately shoved the thing into its grave. I filled the hole, and ran. Time couldn’t catch me now.
By A Joyful Brown