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Time of a Mad ManHow many times a night did he hear the clock tick?
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Every second was another moment in all of time and space and history. And here he was. In this room.
In a single tick, everything in life can change. You may die, you may be born, you may be happier than ever before, you may feel the universe is crashing. But the clock keeps ticking, and the world still spins, indifferent.
In this room, time was different. Walls stark white. No windows, no clock; his only indication of time was that ticking. Some nights it consumed him. But it also kept his sanity. The only noise in his cell was the clock.
Years had passed and days had gone, but how long had it been for him? The voices had stopped coming. They no longer floated through the brilliantly bright walls. Now it was only the clock.
Some days he considered the possibility he was mad; the thought never stayed with him for long though.
How old was he now? He counted seconds on the clock and thought of the world. The universe went on, unto