I couldn't help but to notice today, when my head felt heavier than normal, rested in the palm of my left hand, that there was a soft ticking from my watch that reminded me of the time I used to share a bedroom with my grandmother back in my middle school days and our separate twin beds were on either sides of the room. A baby grandfather clock sat on top of the dresser, its reserved ticks shy within the glass dome. Only early in the morning would I hear the ticking, when all was quiet and she had not yet waken me to go down the stairs and make pancakes together.
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