A Report On Tick Tock

“There strikes the ebony clock… for the night is waning away; and there flows a ruddier light through the blood-colored panes; and the blackness of the sable drapery appals; and to him whose foot falls upon the sable carpet, there comes from the near clock of ebony…” (4) wrote Poe. Undoubtedly, enjoyment is stolen from the guests at the mere sound of a clock, or otherwise the sound of their slowing heartbeat. This ebony clock is the metronome to the extent of their lives. Furthermore, “But now there were twelve strokes to be sounded by the bell of the clock; and thus it happened… (5) was written at the demise of the characters. This clock’s eerie chiming on the hour prepared a frequent reminder that time is flying that their lives are growing dimmer with the time, and finally, death has

Throughout the work, Poe employs a seemingly simple ebony clock to symbolize the destined time of life, which no one can control. The clock is first introduced by describing the pendulum’s “dull, heavy, monotonous clang”, which automatically gives the idea that the clock is oppressive and evokes fear in both the readers and guests (Poe). As the story goes on, the characteristics of the clock unfold even more and reveal the emotions and actions it suggests. For instance, the clock’s “chiming imposes a start-stop movement on the festive

You never paid much attention to your clock. It’s just something that was just there, like your nose or the mole on your forearm. They all say you’re wrong to ignore it, to avoid it because you can’t stop fate. No matter how much you wanted to. However, you were never one to follow the rules. Instead, you push the limits, bend it all until it breaks. But as the seconds slowly counted down, you found yourself getting more and more nervous.

Keeping my book on the adjacent seat, I caught a glimpse of the black-framed wall clock out of the corner of my eye for the ninth time this hour, scrutinizing the second hand, which seemed to linger an extra minute at every passing second. I took my gaze off of the clock, silently vowing to

I was attacked by my little brothers. They had been waiting all day for me to get home, this was a daily routine they begged me to go out and play with them. We went out and played catch for a while and had races up and down the street. Then as usual I went up to my room after dinner and after I had cleaned up for the night, to watch film on the team we would be facing the next day. I watched film until late into the night, watching and rewatching play after play after play. I felt like I had watched a whole seasons worth of film until I looked at the clock, it was 1:30 Am. I turned off my Ipad and went to bed so I could get enough rest for the game

Later on that day, I heard shouting and crying down the road a ways. I swung the door open and ran towards the commotion. My mind was running through the files of my brain thinking on what it could be. I finally thought of the worst situation

BRRRRNNNGGGG! BRRRRRNNNGGG! The familiar, but annoying sound come blaring from the out of date alarm clock, sitting on the dresser, in Katie’s small bedroom. Katie knew all too well that the antiquated clock, which had been her mothers and her grandmothers before that, would continue to scream at her until she put an end to it. The treasured alarm clock had been given to her on her tenth birthday, twelve years ago to the day, but the memory was as fresh in Katie’s mind as if it had happened only yesterday.

Seven o' clock strikes on my alarm clock, causing it to ring its silver bells, rudely jolting

As the clock reaches the conclusion of the day, its last chime symbolizes one coming to the end of their life. The silence

I had just gotten home from school and was standing before my front door starring at it in apprehension of what would most likely greet me on the other side. "Hopefully, today's different," I thought tiredly. Opening the front door I stepped silently inside and quietly closed the door then headed towards my room only to pause at the bottom of the stars as I realized there was no sound coming from upstairs like there usually was. I resumed walking up the stairs thinking to myself "wow, for once they've actually considered that they have a son living with them." At least that's what I thought until, right as I was about to enter my room, loud moans sounded from two different directions. "Or not," I thought in annoyance and slammed my door which did nothing to stop the moans.

The ticking watch symbolizes how slow time is going, and he thinks the ticking in his head is the time going by

Water rolled down my face as I took the last bite of my Cheetos and I supposed of getting something to drink. I ran back to my aunt and got some water, I also told her about what we were doing and she warned me to conclude this nonsense. I went back thinking about it as I hit the ground instantly. I got back up and went back to them, even with me holding my right hand over my left. I finally got to the top, all 3 of them were waiting since it was my turn. I went, but all I felt was blood dripping from my middle finger after some friction. I got back up and gave them the deadly, dirty, and destroyed piece of cardboard, at this moment I knew I had been an unwise little 6-year-old male

Later, I lay awake in bed. There’s a strange feeling in the air, and I feel like someone is watching me. I pull the blinds up on the window, but there’s nothing to be seen but darkness. The ‘digi-clock’ on my bedside reads twelve o’ clock. I walk into the kitchen to grab a glass of water.

I went to the dining room again to put my jacket on and I picked up my jacket and passed the couch to go to the computer. I turned it on to check the time. It was 6:50 on the bottom righthand corner of the computer. My brother was still watching youtube on the xbox 1. I put on my jacket while I was on my way to the stairs to see what my sister was doing. As I was walking up I heard a TV on. I went up to investigate what was going on. I opened my sister’s door and I found both of my sisters watching TV instead of doing what they have to do.

Earlier that night, my seemingly perfect parents had been arguing for hours. The consistent pounding in my head had left me nauseous. Both my brothers