My clock, my Beloved

“You are the one who means the most to me,” Miranda repeated over and over while gently cleaning the clock. “You understand me like no one ever could and I love you for it. You don’t judge me and you most certainly do not hate me. Instead you quietly thank me for cleaning your auburn wood every day and you bring me joy that I have long forgotten.” Miranda smiled at the clock and continued to clean and wipe the invisible dirt that blanketed the ticking machine. Soon the clock was cleaned to Miranda’s satisfaction and she gently hugged it. “Thank you,” she whispered and lovingly kissed the face of the clock, “thank you for everything.”

Miranda walked to the other side of her room where her closet stood and tiredly stripped out of her clothing. Her black dress slowly slid down her shoulders and drifted down to the floor. Miranda stepped out of the dress and bent to pick it up. She slowly rose up and took a wooden hanger from the closet and hung up her tattered everyday dress. Miranda sighed at the sight of the wretched thing, she so badly wanted another dress but couldn’t afford one on account of her never having a job. This only made her sigh in depression.

Shaking off the depression clouds above her Miranda swiftly took off her bra and reached down to pick up a mans dress shirt that rested on the bottom of the closet. She felt very comfortable in the oversized shirt and smiled with the feeling of ease. She then took out the pins that held her hair in her classic everyday bun, letting her hair tumble down and touch her shoulders. She walked to the door on the far side of the room and turned off the light switch. Then she padded to her bed and snuggled under the covers. After the cold day she had the warm bed brought comfort that she knew would always be there. She sighed one last time and drifted off to sleep.

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The following day Miranda got up as soon as the sun shined through the window. She gently stretched her thin arms above her head and swiftly swung her legs to the other side of the bed. She slowly stood up and stretched her whole body like a great cat waking from a deep sleep. She yawned once then walked to the bathroom in order to get ready.

Once there she looked at her reflection in the mirror and sighed. “Why must I look like this,” she mumbled with despair in her voice, “why am I unfortunate enough to have such a face?” She shook her head and turned the water on with the faucet handle. She placed her hands beneath the running water and harshly threw the water on her face. She repeated this until she felt she was cleaned enough and dried her face off. She then quickly placed her hair in the bun she usually wore and just as quickly got dressed in the dress she usually wore. She then set off to do what she did everyday, look for a job.

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And just like usual she did not get a single job. Every place she went to the workers would point and laugh at the failure who stood before them. They would say, “No way in hell would we hire you. You are just a good for nothing who can’t do anything right.” After that they would wave her through the door and roughly slam it on her way out. Just thinking about the whole awful ordeal made Miranda even more depressed than the day before. She quickly ran to the window above her bed and pulled it open. She put one foot on the windowsill and was about to jump to the dusty streets below when a gleam caught her eye. It was a reflection of light that shone off of the gold trim of the clock’s face. Staring at its beauty calmed her like it always did and she slowly retracted her appendage from the sill.

Miranda slinked over to the clock and slowly wrapped her arms around the width of the timekeeper. She sighed at the comfort the clock gave her and pulled a handkerchief from her dress pocket. She stroked the clock in a careful manner and smiled with the joy it gave her. “When I’m with you everything seems to be okay. I hope that you will never leave me.” After Miranda was done with the clock she changed into the male dress shirt and slipped under the covers of her bed. Thinking only of the clock sleep came like a welcome darkness

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Miranda awoke from the feeling of an unfamiliar weight on her bed. Startled and hysterical, like she usually was, she jumped out of bed and plastered her back up against the wall. She looked at what was on her bed and gasped aloud. “Wha…wha…what are you doing in my be…bed,” Miranda stuttered while trying not to hyperventilate. Just when she thought she was going to lose it and burst into uncontrollable sobs the figure moved like a cat and pounced on Miranda while putting a hand over her mouth.

Miranda was face to face with an exotic man with the most eerie amber eyes. She was drowning in his eyes just the way she did when she looked at the hands of the clock. Clock, clock, speaking of clock, where was it!?! Miranda looked frantically around the room with wide eyes but couldn’t see it anywhere. She then began to push and pound at the man who was holding her against the wall and eventually bit his hand. With a groan of pain the man let go of Miranda’s mouth and let up his pressure against her body. Seeing this as a chance of escape Miranda kneed the man where the sun don’t shine and quickly scrambled to the other side of the room.

“What have you done with my clock,” Miranda asked with stern force that she didn’t even know she had. The man looked at her with a dumbfounded look then began to laugh. He laughed so hard the he actually bent over a little and when he bent over it was then that Miranda saw that he was naked. Fire rushed up into her face and she quickly turned her face away but not before she got the whole view of his delicious body. He had the most unusual skin color, brown but with a hint of red, you could almost say auburn, and not to mention the amazing amber eyes that would belong to a wolf. The man saw her expression and smirked. He slowly rolled up to an upright position, letting Miranda get the full view of his rock hard body.

He then sauntered over to Miranda and gently placed her chin between his fingers. He turned her head until they were looking eye to eye. “This clock of which you speak,” he said with a smooth yet seductive voice “is I.”