Mike inherited an old wall clock from his grandfather. It must’ve been decades old; older than that even. It had weights that needed pulling up once a week. It would chime on the hour and ring out the o’clock.
For Mike the hourly chiming of the clock was like an old friend. Once, when the clock broke down and a part had to be replaced (these old clock hands should never be turned back because it harms the mechanism; simply stop the clock for the appropriate number of hours if it runs fast) he missed its comforting chimes. “Chime-Charm”, Mike called it.
It always chimed seven while he was have breakfast, because that’s when he had breakfast! And then he started saying funny things to himself while it chimed:
- If the toast doesn’t pop up in the toaster before the seven chimes finish chiming, then it’s going to be an unlucky day for me
- If the kettle doesn’t boil before the chimes stop, then I’ll possibly have a terrible car accident in the coming week
- If … if … if …
Mike knew he had to do something about this silly neurotic fixation he was developing. He must get away from the clock for a while. He took his plate of breakfast muesli out onto his balcony where he couldn’t hear the chimes.
- If I don’t see a seagull fly overhead before I finish the muesli…
- If … if … if …