Tick-tock. Tick-tock.

Harry glared at the clock on the wall, thrumming his fingers on the bed. The clock ignored him, as clocks are wont to do, and continued to mark time in its stately progress.

Tick-tock.

Harry could feel the house pressing down on him, smothering him, like the heat wave currently holding England hostage. He had to get out of here...

Tick.

He glowered as the second hand rolled around the clock. Was the bloody thing actually slowing down?

Tock.

The clock struck midnight and Harry walked over to his calendar. Only ninety-nine more days of misery to go...

mood: bored
audio: The Sounds of Silence - no music here at work