nasty clowns and time to walk

Tick, tock, tick, tock, tick, fucking tock

Despite evidence to the contrary, the time refused to move. It wouldn't buzz, no. But the clowns had spoken. They were hopping now, hopping mad. Death nasty clowns, one should add. Still, there was glue beneath his feet. He looked up and felt the world turn slowly. He heard the sea whistling its tuneless song all along this little eternity. Walk now, he told himself, it is time.

Without ever flapping their wings or fluttering their eyelashes, the two third birds circled way up high, like an upside down eddy in the sky. The long dark knight of the down below flinched for a moment, then walked on.