Here's a quote from a very famous story by Edgar Allen Poe:
No doubt I now grew very pale; --but I talked more fluently, and with a heightened voice. Yet the sound increased --and what could I do? It was a low, dull, quick sound --much such a sound as a watch makes when enveloped in cotton. I gasped for breath --and yet the officers heard it not. I talked more quickly --more vehemently; but the noise steadily increased. I arose and argued about trifles, in a high key and with violent gesticulations; but the noise steadily increased.
Just in time for Halloween, right? RIGHT?
It's not just the Spooky Season that got me thinking of this story. I got a steadily increasing noise of my own that's been driving me mad since last night.
Click.
C-click.
Click click.
"You hear that," I asked my Little Wife.
"No," she said. But I heard it. I heard it over the din of Dark Wave. I heard it clicking away through Top Chef. I couldn't take it any longer and I buried the thing in the fridge. I hoped it would be sound-proof enough.
This morning I took the thing from the fridge. Soon enough, my dread was realized: "Click. C-Click. Click."
Oh how the sound of it cut into my soul. I must rid myself of this! I must rid myself of the Mexican Jumping Bean! Look. LISTEN TO IT!!
Tonight - Homestead.
bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!
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