She stirs the tea in the cup, stirring it against the current of time trying to return to the past; stirring the tiny corners of her distraught heart, the ticker within. A broken alarm clock She hears the ticking at the back of her mind. Tick, the sound of Vexation slapping ridges of hilltop high hopes. Tick again, the sound of Frustration swiftly slamming the door shut. Tick again, the sound of Exasperation sighing the cracks off the walls. Tick, tick, tick. A broken alarm clock A ringing silence.