Tick. Tick. Tick.

I hear the sound of the clock.

Tick. Tick. Tick.

Unconsciously, my movements match the sound.

Tick. Tick. Tick.

Then I stop and stand. Lost. Numb.

Tick. Tick. Tick.

The beauty of betrayal (is that what this is?) is that it leaves no doubt.

Tick. Tick. Tick.

The sound of the clock.

Tick. Tick. Tick.

There is nothing more.

Tick. Tick. Tick.

Tick. Tick. Tick.

Tick. Tick. Tick.