The Clock

Tick, tock.  I can hear the clock on the wall.  Tick, tock.  It measures the passing of time.  Tick, tock.  It's distintive sound fills the house, hearing it always reminds me that I'm home. 
It's been hung on the livingroom wall for as long as I can remember, longer than I have been alive according to Ronan.  He watched it being put together, every delicate cog slotted together, perfectly.  The case is made of wood that has been intricately carved with leaves, flowers, animals. All painted in vibrantly realistic colours, every plant carefully shaded like the real thing. 
It is very beautiful for a constant reminder of time passing.  Ironic maybe, the living decorating the reminder that it will all end in death. 
Tick, tock.  Tick, tock.