Tick

Tick, Tick, Tick, says the clock, looking down at me with its moving clock hands and its stationary numbers, teasing me, knowing that I anticipate to get out of here. But alas, the clock still ticks.

Tick, Tick, Tick. I mean, I know I can't stop time, but now it's getting annoying: the ticking every second, the anticipation and wait, and me, the person waiting.

TICK, TICK, TICK, TICK TICK TICK TICK TICK.