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Like clockwork, the arrival of autumn prompts a spirit of quiet reflection. I watch the leaves cascade gently to the ground and occasionally I wonder how you are. The flames of love have long since fallen into eternal sleep and the wind blows a small cloud of ashes by my face. The moment passes, and the faces fade back into blissful indifference.
By aura.rayne on 09.23.2017
WHERE ARE YOU GOINGGGGG
By Grub Ub URL on 09.23.2017
Right on time, the gears of the ancient machine began to shift. Their oiled teeth pressed against each other in a quiet grind, letting a soft hum reverberate through the empty castle halls.
By ethel on 09.23.2017
every time i’m with you
my legs turn to jelly.
it’s clockwork, really
strawberry marmalade stuck in my cogs
stumbling replies and sticky shoes
laughter caught in time
like a wasp in amber.
By esmé on 09.23.2017
He’s a cantankerous old man, angry at anything and everything, voice so loud it repels all forms of common sense and decency.
The night is much older though, so it waits and waits – for his skin to turn blue, for his blood to seep into the ground, for his bones to turn to dust.
By Bodies of Ink and Water on 09.23.2017
He was there every Saturday, like clockwork. He’d walk in at noon, and didn’t leave until it was nearly closing time. I feared him, to be honest. He was all muscle, and according to gossip, he worked for the worst mafia man in Italy. I will not lie to you. Up until this summer, I believed the rumors to be true. However, that was before I caught him singing Taylor Swift in the library’s bathroom. Needless to say, I don’t see him in the same light anymore.
By Aleigha on 09.23.2017
clockword clutters itself in the sharpened nooks and crannies of memories
brushed away like wasted tears and eraser shavings
gears shift and cogs grind and the wind howls down a lonely street.
The men ran the factory like clockwork – all its odds and ends were taken care of. But the women ran the business like water – smooth and fluid and calm. Unlike the metaphor of clanking gears and chiming bells, the imagery of a rippling river seemed more succinct. And in the end, the profits were at an all time high the next corner, and all held responsibility for the success. And thus, there was beer for everyone!
By Belinda Roddie URL on 09.23.2017
Like clockwork Nicolas Cage swung the Christmas hammer right as the man was entering the doorway. Two for two.
By Maxi Million on 09.23.2017
this makes me think of oranges and clockwork mice and Tim Burton-esque things… Coraline?! Wait no that’s Neil Gaiman. Or that war-related movie… I have no idea
By Luna on 09.23.2017
The job was going like clockwork until the alarm was triggered and we had to run out of there as fast as our legs could carry us than jump into the get away car, so now we didn’t get all the money we planned for only half.
By sadads URL on 09.24.2017
Clockwork is alive and the digital synchronization is vivid, it is as if it is fucntioning and breathing and that time is very forgiving. It is now and then.
By Robert Kohlhammer on 09.24.2017
It went like clockwork, all the people spilling out of the building on fire and all the emergency services snapping into action, all clockwork until spiders from mars ate the firetrucks, washed them down with fire hydrant water, and for dessert they had the remains of the building, thought it nice of the earthlings to serve them a highrise flambe
By Hope on 09.24.2017
A clockwork orange, a movie I never saw. Habitual, we say, things happen like clockwork.
But in these crazy times, everything seems off. I love clocks. I love the concept of time even if we spend our lives rebelling against the clock.
By Robin on 09.24.2017
The clockwork is very important in the work place. because employers need to know how many hours an employee has worked during the week.
By Assad Ishag URL on 09.24.2017
tick tock, tick tock, on and on it goes. Patience was running out. Her foot tapped in split seconds, fingers every second. Clockwork and bodywork were part of something bigger that day.
By Sam on 09.24.2017
Round and round it goes.
Gripping, arching, flexing.
The bed moving a foot from the wall.
Like clockwork I release the shadow self.
By orange you glad i didn't go knock-knock URL on 09.24.2017
It ran like clockwork. The little “clunk clunk clunk” that it made was as soothing to listen to as the ocean.
By Katy on 09.24.2017
She heard his step on the top stair, like clockwork, exactly 5:35pm. She held her breath but tried to look at the TV as if nothing was happening. He entered, jingling his keys, calling to her softly. “In the living room!” she called back, in what she hoped sounded like a normal voice.
By Bridget Grace on 09.24.2017
Clockwork. Gears and ticking. Gas and steam. Cogs and connections. Pieces fitting perfectly together, harmonious movement. It had been a long night. The ticking was getting to him. He hated this job. He hated dealing with time.
By Allison on 09.24.2017
Every time I wake up, it’s the same day. Nothing changes. I don’t know if it’s a dream or a nightmare. I try to wake. I can’t. Screaming for help but no one hears. I open my eyes. It’s the same day. I scream. I open my eyes.
By Sean on 09.24.2017
What is it like when the base assumption is wrong? What is it like when the dock floats with the water? Or, from the deck of the boat, you could swear it’s the sky rolling and not you. The captain, snapping open a gold timepiece, takes another look at the map and knows, when that little golden spear of sureness moves to impale those Arabic scribbles, he will stand on sure footing. And yet, he will still rock, his body a memory of the sea. At that point, he will only be sure that it is he and not the land that rocks. And the golden time-piece is the assuring, sure-footed, lie that allows him to continue on among the gaudy crowds.
By mattlock URL on 09.24.2017
“Works like clockwork” he said simply. It was an old phrase but perfectly described the condition of their discovery. A smile skated across my mouth and I laughed but agreed.
By Annee on 09.24.2017
I wake up everyday like clockwork. The first thing in my mind is always different. Some people think about what they need to do that day. Others think about their true love. My life isn’t ever that consistent. The only thing like clockwork in my life, is that I wake up.
By Mandee on 09.24.2017
Trying to get through grad school is like clockwork. Every assignment is as maticulous as the ceiling of the Vatican. If one word is out of place you are seen as illiterate. So pretty much how i am making my self sound right now.
By firstname.lastname@example.org on 09.24.2017
It was like clockwork. Every morning, at six sharp, Evelyn would rise from her bed and stumble into my arms.
“Grace, darling,” she’d laugh in that husky, sweet voice of hers, “you have to hear about the dream I just had.” I would always listen to her elaborate dreams, smiling softly up at her while she played with my soft brown curls, and all I would be thinking about the entire time was how to make her love me, how to make her want me the way that I wanted her.
By Annie on 09.24.2017
Tick tick the clock goes, I have just enough time to get done what needs to get done. I tend to procrastinate though. Things take me a while to finish. Always racing against the clock. Want to slow down.
By Care on 09.24.2017
Today was the only day of the week, that was like clockwork. I awoke, cleaned up, sat on the couch. All the day long, for hours at a time, without moving. It was a Sunday, and I dedicated my daylight hours to my favorite sport. And, like clockwork, another mother fucker took a knee during our national anthem. Is there a solution they would accept?
By T. Michael Smith URL on 09.24.2017
“Semua ini akan rusak,” Doyoung menatap Taeyong di hadapannya. “Kamu dan aku sama-sama tahu, kalau kita akan rusak. Dalam hitungan jam.” Kali ini ia membuang pandangan, menghela napas putus asa.
By d i l i a URL on 09.24.2017
There was a synchronicity to the way the employees delivered the products. They came in neat little blue boxes like Tiffany’s boxes but in a darker hue of blue. Sylvia Buttendorpe owned and operated the establishment. She was thin and ghostly blonde and spoke in three word sentences exclusively.
By Catherine B on 09.24.2017
“One day I will be yours,” her head decides as it hits the pillow like clockwork. The number of times she’s hated his face and held a grudge surfaces, the ill will is tamped down as the next declaration forms unspoken. “I will come to you like you’ve always wanted. I will tell you what you’ve always wanted to hear. But like any prognostication there will be conditions that must be met.”
By Banana URL on 09.24.2017
Rebirth, redo, rewind—
Remaking the world anew each swivel around,
Each hour another key, another chain,
Moving forward while locked in place,
A beckon to climb, roll down through the hours,
Smooth and seamless,
Clawing upside-down, toward the top,
Toward what lies beyond,
By Ai URL on 09.24.2017
when the time ticks tock tick socks its just clockwork its just a clock working all day all night and it never stops because its a clock tick tock its just clockwork yeah clockwork
By Kira on 09.24.2017
I’ve seen clockwork a clock tick tock and no-one knows how long a clock has to work all day all night its a clock tick tock tick tick tick its a clock girl and its down clockwork
By Kira sb on 09.24.2017
On time. Precise. There isn’t any thinking – it just happens. When I think of this word habits is the next word that comes to mind. How does one’s habits form? Childhood? Can you chose your habits?
By Me on 09.24.2017
a division of Identity Crisis, Inc.