Crumbling Clockwork

Absurdist surrealism, somewhere between satire and allegory, comedy and horror. Definitely an odd one.

P.R. Williams had visited many distant lands, some so distant that they would be better described as ‘worlds apart’, yet this land had to be the oddest he had yet encountered. 

In a distance hard to judge there was a reverberating Tick-tock--the sound of a great clock counting by the irregular minutes within its distorted tempo.  At first he had thought it a normal beat, but he was starting to suspect that there was something off, or perhaps he was just going mad?  It wouldn’t surprise him considering how the ground rumbled continually as a beast of voracious appetite--one which seemed to gnaw at his ever ebbing mind.  That and the periodic wild swinging of the room which made staying on his feet impossible; which was why he had resigned himself to sitting in this awkward and highly uncomfortable chair. 

The chair seemed to curiously prod his back, seeking out the most unpleasant ways to dig into his flesh and bones; but he had already come to the conclusion that sitting was the only way he could avoid losing his balance.  Despite how he had come here, expecting something new to explore, it was difficult to overcome the restless feeling the grinding of the gears under his feet filled him with; and the jolting from the gears snagging below kept him on edge at all times, unsure when his chair would next skitter across the floor like a jittery four-legged cockroach.

Yes, P.R. Williams was convinced that this was the oddest hodgepodge of… things, to ever be considered a city--he did not much fancy it, truth be told.  But much like the disconcerting rhythm of the tick, tick…tick…tick, tock, tick… tock, he was beginning to suspect there was something off about the men about him.

“May I call you Mr. Williams?”

“No, Pe…” started P.R. Williams, intent to keep things casual, on a first-name basis and what have you, that is before he was interrupted in mid-sentence.

“Why yes Sir William, Certainly… How have you enjoyed your… time here on our clockwork utopia?  It is not wonderful to see a world which runs so free of chaos?”

Chaos… that was a fine word now that the newly dubbed Sir William thought about it--seemed very fitting.  With a sigh, not wanting to make a scene over trivialities such as titles, surnames, omitted Ss and what have you, William responded as cordially as he could, “Well… I must confess, it has been a rather…”

“INDUBITABLY!” shrieked a small man in the corner of the room, cutting William off in mid-sentence, again…  The man was unnaturally small, or perhaps he only appeared that way due to his saucer-sized eyes which seemed to smush the rest of his face.  Those eyes stared at William, unblinking, as the man clung to the walls the best his grubby arms could manage.  He looked very much like a frog… perhaps a toad?

With a pause, trying to be above his hosts’ poor etiquette, William finished, “Quite… interesting.”

A loud chime from beyond the warped horizon, and the whole room lurched violently.  William finally understood why the amphibious man had been bracing himself so desperately to the walls, to no avail.  A shrieked, “INCORRIGIBLE!” as the man flew across the room in a rather comedic fashion.  His chair finally rocking to a stop, William tried to continue his conversation, “Yes, it has been quite, an eye-opener…”  Pausing to look at the bulging eyes which stared at him from the crumpled heap across the room, he wondered if he had chosen his words as well as he should have.  Turning back to his host’s intense gaze, William tried to elaborate, “Intriguing to observe, a society where… things… are so… orderly.  Yes, orderly; free of chaos and what have you.”

The man did not dignify the stumbled amendment with a response beyond a rather, unnatural smile.  While this man had normal eyes, William felt himself drawn in a morbid fashion to the grotesque smile of the man.  It was like looking at a corpse, revolting, yet… inescapable with its luring, fascination.  What did a person have to eat to manage a grin like that?

William awkwardly continued, gesturing out the asymmetrical window to the sea of gears below, “I never imagined a city such as this could exist, if I am being completely honest.”

Again, nothing but silence, an unnatural and disconcerting silence.  And yet, the man’s grin seemed to intensify, maybe it was just his imagination, but that grin was dripping: malicious, ravenous, fallacious, facetious?

Another chime, with another, this time more gentle, lurch.  While William’s chair barely moved, he felt his stomach churn violently.  This was every bit as bad as being at sea!  On second thought, waves at least had a lulling effect to them, compared to the helter-skelter of… everything, here.

The man no longer appeared so jovial, rather he seemed solemn, unnaturally so.  With a measured voice the man finally remarked, “The time for silence has passed.” Before mumbling something incoherently to himself.

At last the third and final host in the room, whose only notable trait was his long legs and the silence he had held thus far, gasped, “Get out while you can…”

Staring at the man, William was bewildered as to how he was meant to respond to such a… warning?  Of course he was not a fan of this odd-clockwork abomination of a city, but wasn’t it rather… odd, to just ‘get out’?  Looking back to the putrid smile of his host he saw a look of pity.

“Forgive him, he is a bit broken you see; happens time to time.”

“OSTENTATIOUSLY!” shrieked the Toad-man in agreement.  It seemed to William that the long-legged fellow wasn’t the only one broken. 

Raising an eyebrow questioningly, William was answered with a simple, “He has a hard time with time, a very hard time indeed keeping his time in time with the time.”  Then with measured grace, the man kicked back into his chair as he slid against the sliding room in perfect accord to the rumbling chime growing ever more present--a rather showy way of demonstrating just how much this chaotic excuse for order made sense.

“Well, I haven’t had a lick of sleep these last few days; no idea how any of you manage.”  It was no surprise to William that anyone who was a citizen of ‘this place’ would be considered broken.

To this the man sneered at him with a rancorous snarl, a very harsh look out of place for a host, “There is no time afforded for sleep!”

“Uhh… okay…”  William was admittedly taken aback by the pernicious contempt in the man’s voice, even more so than the idea that no one had time to sleep here.  He had had enough, yes he had enough indeed.  It seemed a good time to take the advice from his more reserved host.  Shakily getting to his feet, William tried, as politely as possible, to excuse himself, “Well, there are many other worlds and places to explore.  And I have but one lifetime, so I had best…”  Pausing awkwardly he finished, “I am an explorer after all.”

But at this, the room lurched yet again, sending William tumbling to the ground in a disoriented tangle of limbs.  As, of one accord, three voices rang out, clashing violently with each other,

“SALUTATIONS!”

“May I call you, Lord Will?”

“The Clockwork is Infallible!”

Flummoxed under the discordant voices, the rumbling gears, the twisting winding walls, the rocking chime drawing near, Lord Will scarcely noticed the mechanical hands as they descended upon him.  Firm, unfeeling, oddly metallic hands twisted, then tore, his limbs from his torso with a grinding snap of cartilage followed by the slick rip of flesh as they were at last liberated from their tangled master.  Lord Will was able to rasp out no more than, “What?” before the pulse of his heart faded, ebbing, to the clicking of the clockwork sea.

Standing above his mutilated remains, strangely still, the automatons looked on in indifference as the chime rang out, masking the final blood-filled gargle of what had once been an explorer.  As blood flowed along the cracked tile floor, three voices rang out as clockwork,

“IMMACULATE!”

“You should get out while you can…”

A moment of silence…

There is no time afforded for exploring,

                nor explorers,

                                In a clockwork-sea

Reviews

[Rene Salinas]

Wouldn't be nice if in that moment before you are born, before you are sent to come, to perform a task, someone will allow you a view into your "destiny"? So fleeting that could be -- that as soon as you had been given life that fragment of a thought would be pushed back into the unknown. A door opens then -- and a congregation of people are waiting to tell you, in unison -- smiling:

Welcome to this planet! Welcome to existence!

Might seem like a creative idea but again somewhat absurd. Why do I go through that preamble? Because on a personal level I have just devoured this writing not once but many times.

It was precisely the sharing of absurdity -- surrealism and the presence of that "unforgiving clock", which I pictured with legs and hands.... But it transported me into a scene,obviously somewhere inside -- as I am prone to grow inward. The first and very palpable quasi warning, was the absurdity found in the amount of time that we spend between the who we are, and who we should be. When maybe redemption has stories to tell, yet we're too busy escaping.

The depiction of the rooms worth from a scene, from the movie "The Stalker" by Tarkovsky. A seeker that maybe about to be encounter his real "motif" in life. The disturbing but maleable sense of time, oh my, who hasn't enjoyed a fragment of a moment that seemed like a lifetime? Time indeed can seem highly irregular.

The adding of what I will describe as "little people" shouting concepts expressed in words came to me as "you never know where the answer or help may come" as indeed we don't.

But the clock will be unforgiving, and mercy does not belong to his world.

Time shall have no mercy.

Somewhere between the what was and what may come we might want to accept that we need to wake up and maybe even that forgivness may lay right where we fell.

Thank You

[Nusquam Esse]

Not going to lie, I enjoyed writing this one. It was fun to delve into the more absurd side of surrealism. I came up with the idea initially because I have been struggling between self-expression and what is 'proper' or 'right'. When saying what is in our heart is probably the worst thing we can do; but keeping it inside drives us mad. I felt like I was going crazy, so I wanted to make something along these themes. But the story did not at all take the direction I intended, some of the themes were still there, but the whole spirit of it was completely different. I had a switch click in my head, and I wanted to be absurd, to be light-hearted, and to be morbid... perhaps not to directly confront the turmoil I was feeling. I am glad that you could connect with this one Rene, we are both the types to get a bit too much into our own heads... ;)