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  "title": "Click clack",
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              "plaintext": "Mum has had this old, huge mechanic Seiko Corona clock for ages. I don't remember a time of this thing not being around, or rather - the sound of it, which makes me think that she must have bought it in Libya in the late 70s. Whenever I called her throughout the years and she'd be in bed or close by, I'd hear the clock and it transported me immediately back home."
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              "plaintext": "At some point, it began stopping and mum took it for repairs a few times. Finally, what I recall her saying was, \"It's not showing the right time anymore, but I can't sleep without its sound.\" So, she kept winding it. Until 2016 when I took her with me to Germany and the clock stayed back. I bought another one, way quieter, to click clack next to her head, but it was not the same."
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              "plaintext": "After she passed away and I came home where things needed taking care of.. a lot of taking care of.. I tired to wind it again once, but it refused to turn and I didn't want to force it, so I just left it on the night table, where it has always been."
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              "plaintext": "Tonight, tired from the road I lay in her bed and looked at the clock, and for some reason I tried again to turn the knobs. Two of them. And they gave in, but no sound. When I tried to adjust the hour, suddenly the clock began ticking again. The sound I've not heard for so many years."
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              "plaintext": "I start to think that my drive to repair things comes from a desire to stop time, to make things whole again. And it is an illusion because neither can I stop time, nor do things stay static by design. I have to reconcile those two states of mind. It may be showing the wrong time, but this sound is what it has always been. "
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  "publishedAt": "2026-03-15T21:40:24.377Z"
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