Gold-polished fingernails opened the cold metal casing, revealing the ticking clock within. The second hand spun round and round, fast as lightning in a storm, but the other two hands were frozen in place over numbers that slowly changed into strange, alien hieroglyphs.
“Perhaps,” the girl said, knowing that this might be the moment she had waited for all her life and that the very survival of the universe might rest on her shoulders, “this might be just what we need.”
For Three Line Tales. Thanks to Sonya for holding the challenge!
Is this a sequel to my Flash Fiction for the Aspiring Writer post from earlier this week? Maybe, if you want it to be.