Tag Archives: clock

Cuckoo Clock House…Friday Fictioneers.

As soon as he walked in, Jan was at peace. The boy with the cuckoo clock heart, had finally found his tribe in this museum of intricately carved clocks. No longer an outsider, they even shared the same heartbeat.

Unable to afford a human heart, his father had found a mysterious cuckoo clock at the local market, which he prayed would save the life of his beloved son. Yet, although the operation was a success, there was a strange side-effect. Dvorak’s American Symphony played like a broken record in his head.

At last, he understood. It was all about the house.

….

Welcome to another contribution for Friday Fictioneers hosted by Rochelle Wishoff Fields. This week’s photo prompt is © J Hardy Carroll and was taken at the Bily Clock Museum in Spillville, Iowa. The museum building was the residence of Antonín Dvořák during the summer of 1893 where he composed his String Quartet in F (also known as the “American Quartet”) and his String Quintet in E-Flat. You can hear it Here

 

 

Everyone’s clock runs out…eventually.

This post is a great take on the transience of life and the ticking bomb which is our human body. If you are looking for a read that will get you thinking, you’ll enjoy this xx Rowena

Rethinking Life

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Picture from Pixabay

I think we’re a lot like watches…we have delicate parts that need to work together, if we are to run properly.  If one part wears out, we don’t keep proper time.  No matter how well we care for our watches, something always goes wrong.  Parts are replaced and things run smoothly until the next time.  Each second ticks away, adding up to minutes and hours, months and years.  Newer models come along, models with fewer movable parts, but they seem short lived and are replaced more frequently.

Once our watches start losing time, we might be surprised to find they no longer make the parts needed to fix the problem.  And when someone tries to sell us a new watch we frown because we simply want the watch we already have, to keep running.  Somewhere in our minds we wonder why things wear out, instead of just…

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