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- >You are Anonymous.
- >In the prime of your life, no less.
- >You've made quite a nice life too, if you say so yourself.
- >Sitting on a PhD, a well paying job, and a sizable place, there's nothing you could complain about.
- >After a long shift, you were at home mindlessly browsing the internet with a beer in hand.
- >An old friend has been chatting with you, and mentions a couple of his buddies found a geocache "With like, a thousand dollars, dude"
- >He and you did a lot of geocaching before moving away from home. Deciding nothing else too eventful was going to happen that night, you asked for the coordinates.
- >It was close, too. No more than a half hour drive away.
- >Grabbing a shovel, GPS, and your car keys, you head out.
- >It took a bit to find exactly where the GPS was taking you.
- >Turns out the coordinates were smack dab in the middle of a forest, and you had to walk the last bit.
- >You curse at yourself for not bringing a flashlight, but at least your phone had a decent one on it.
- >After a bit of wandering, and tripping over nothing, you reach the coordinates.
- >It's a small clearing, and it looks like there was a fire here recently.
- >You start looking around, and find a painted rock sitting up against one of the many trees.
- >Grabbing it and putting it aside, it turns out whoever put this here didn't bury it.
- >That was a bonus. It always irritated you when they were buried.
- >Grabbing the box, you carefully open it up.
- >Could there really be money in here?
- >The most you've ever found is a few silver coins.
- >Opening the box reveals something covered in newspaper, which you promptly take out.
- >It's...
- >A clock.
- >An old one, at that.
- >The wood looks like it could be a hundred years old. The glass covering its face is stained, and appears to be broken in a few places.
- >Looking at the back there's no battery compartment, or any sort of opening to access the inside of it.
- >Amazingly enough, it seems to still be working.
- >With a faint tick, the second hand continues to keep a track of the time.
- >It seems to be off though, as your phone reads 11 and the clock reads 6 AM.
- >With a shrug, you gently put it back and head out of the forest and to your car.
- >Apon arriving home, you took a shower, and threw on light PJs.
- >After another couple beers and a few videos to numb your skull, you headed to your room.
- >Deciding you'd see if you could repair the clock in the morning, you put it on your nightstand before crawling into bed.
- >With a yawn and a stretch, you fell asleep shortly after.
- >That is, you would've if the clock didn't start making noises.
- >They were soft, at first. Almost like a few of the gears fell out of place.
- >You roll over and turn on the lamp.
- >It seems fine, from what you can tell. The second hand continues on, now reading just before 8 AM.
- >You turn the light off, and close your eyes once more.
- >Until the clock starts to chime.
- >You were almost asleep this time, too.
- >You sit up in bed, sighing and picking up the clock to find an off switch or something.
- >Finshing the chime, it goes through the last few for every hour.
- >Ding....Ding....
- >You put the clock back down in defeat, and lay back down.
- >Ding...Ding...Ding...
- >You close your eyes, and hope once the chime finishes you'll be able to finally sleep.
- >Ding...Ding...
- >Maybe tomorrow you'll fake sick and enjoy a day off.
- >Ding...
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