The eclipse of the Clock

It was a dark and stormy night. This was very unusual weather for the middle of summer even for London. The storm had been going on for three weeks, the rain was piled so high in the streets that you could swim up to Big Ben and slap him in the face.

People, the people of London, were stranded knee deep in water as their houses and buildings were submerged two feet below the cascading water. The storm was very deceitful. It seemed to play a game of cat and mouse with the people. Then all of the sudden the storm grew bored of its audience and let out a huge roar of thunder. The people of London screamed as the fist of the storm touched the water and then there was only silence.

This silence was short lived as the roar of airplane engines filled the night. The storm found this quite amusing for it struck every one of those planes down with the brute force of it’s ice cold frozen tears. Then again there was only silence.

This time the silence would only be broken by the sound of receding water; until the water-damaged buildings and the soggy cadavers lay tossed upon the sopping-wet ground.

Then this very eerie feeling swept across the grave yard that was now London. The storm seemed to cower away from this death stricken town as if something worse was on it’s way, but what could be worse than a storm that just killed the entire population of London?

Before this question could be pondered an earthshaking sound erupted into the night. There were no planes in sight, not a bird and not a fly. Not even a bomb in the blackened sky.

This sound was not made by man and was not part of the imagination. This sound was not made by Earth. Then what had caused it? What was the identity of this shrilling-ear-piercing noise?

The answer lies with the sky; what with your naked eye could you tell was missing? Where be the moon you loon? I guess I’ll have to point it out to you. Look at Big Ben; what is wrong with him?

The moon was now visible to my eyes; moving in front of Big Ben it lies. The moon to my horror and surprise was crashing into the Earth before my eyes. The last thing I could see was the crashing of the moon at Big Ben’s feet.

First ending ^

second ending v

Finally as plain as I could see London was beneath me. After all this time of just sitting up there I got tired of seeing Big Ben’s glare. Lighting the streets of London better than me I had to do something.

So I made my move and now I’m in Big Ben’s seat, but what was strange to me was the sight in my light’s reach. Who had killed the population of London because it certainly wasn’t me? What was I proving with no one to watch me?

Since I was bored I decided to show myself to the Ifel tower and see how bright he would shine after I was through with him. I thought to myself when I was half way there; what is this strange feeling in the air? Oh no it can’t be, my ex-wife Storm is chasing after me?

Heya hun, yikes; watch where you’re joltin’ . Right perhaps I should start bolting while I still have room to escape. Retreat!

The eclipse of the Clock


Fresno, United States

  • Artist



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