The Sound of Silence

This morning I sat at the breakfast bar with my book waiting for the tea kettle to boil. I heard a rhythmic sound, thika, thika. I listened. The faucet wasn’t dripping, the AC wasn’t running, and, of course, all the televisions were silent. What the. . . ?

I looked straight ahead listening, listening with my head cocked like a dog’s trying to understand what his human is saying. There it was right in front of me—the electric wall clock in the dining room. Thika, thika with each passing second.

I never realized that electric clocks could be so noisy.