Tick Tock

There is a clock that ticks but never moves.

That's not a riddle, by the way. It sounds like a riddle, I know, but it's not. Trust me. It's the source of my madness.

I watch the pendulum swing, back and forth, hour after hour, day after day, and the hands move not a second.

I thought they moved once, but I was wrong. I cried.

I used to think it was just broken, but now I think they do it on purpose. I think they engineered it like that. Just to drive us mad. To keep us occupied. To keep us... unfocused.

I had a plan once... A way out. I could have done it, I think, but I can't... I can't quite remember the specifics. There was a hallway, and some... shoes... I think... but... the ticking is there now. It's in my mind, in the space where thoughts belong.

Where thoughts belong the ticking lives. It beats like a heart in my mind, but the clock doesn't move.

Why don't you move? Why don't you move!

I could move. I should move. But I'm the clock now. I tick, I tock...

But I don't move.

I can't move.

I'm broken.