Tick-Tock

The wind howls around you, sharp and relentless, as the snow whips through the night like ghosts dancing in the storm. Standing on the frozen rooftop, your breath turns to mist, dissolving into the chaos of winter. Your gaze locks onto the clock tower in the distance, its massive hands moving with slow, deliberate purpose. Time doesn’t care about the storm, the cold, or the weight of the thoughts pressing against your mind. It moves forward, unshaken.