I have lived in my home for over twenty years, and the mantel clock was a housewarming gift from my mom and dad.
It was a miniature grandfather clock, and I loved it.
One afternoon, the HVAC technician came to the house to work on my furnace. The longer we sat talking, the more agitated the HVAC technician became. I thought he wasn’t feeling well, but then I noticed he was sticking his fingers in his ears. I asked if he had an ear ache. He said no, and that everything was just fine. I knew what those words just fine meant, and nothing was ever really fine when they were murmured. I saw him glance back at the clock as he headed to the basement, and he breathed a sigh of relief. When he came back upstairs, his mood instantly became surly again. I asked him there was something about my clock that agitated him. He shrugged. There had to be something there that had him so annoyed. I stared at him when he was talking, and getting louder with each word he spoke. I asked him if my clock was his problem. He complained that the clock ticking was enough to drive him mad. He couldn’t figure out how I could live in the house with that noise. He compared the ticking of my clock to a mosquito that is buzzing near your ear. I asked him to leave and told him that the next time I called the HVAC company, I would appreciate if he didn’t take the service call.