Roddy smiled at his ingenuity. A big fight had erupted amongst his siblings over their deceased father’s property. His eldest brother successfully bargained for the estate and his youngest brother got the villa. Roddy’s sister walked away with all the jewellery. When it came to Roddy’s turn, he asked for the old wall clock. His siblings smiled at his eccentricity. The clock was just a decorative piece, which did not even function. Little did they know of its value.
His father had confidentially told him of its worth and Roddy’s thoughts often returned to the wall clock. He received it without an argument. He had already arranged for an auction and expected an unimaginable amount to secure him for life.
Roddy was unable to sleep before the night of the auction. He had just turned off the lights when he heard a loud gong. He hurried to the living room to find the wall clock glowing red in the darkness. The hands in the clock moved together erratically as if in a dance and the gong sounded louder. Roddy shut his ears against the deafening noise until he could hear no more.
Written for Alastair’s Photo Fiction.