The grandfather clock was a thing of beauty, a story in its own right. For it had seen the ages come to pass and kept on ticking all the same.
Every second that had passed since its birth, the grandfather clock had marked, as it would do the seconds in the decades to come.
The grandfather clock told a tale of old fashioned craftsmanship, a tale of an age when things were expected to last not a season but generations.
The grandfather clock stood there as the gateway for old-man time, the golden pendulum making its steady way back and forth.
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