The mirror in the abandoned mansion was tired of watching the, now terribly troubled, clock which once stood stoically straight directly across from the stairs. Each and every dawn revealed a slightly new discoloration and further leanings. If she had hands, she’d be willing to toss it onto a junk pile thus improving her unpleasant view of the unceasing degradation of the once grand manor.
The tired clock was well aware of the mirror’s condescending opinion and decided to put an end to her suffering by furrowing the brow on its rusting, once gloriously ornate, grandfatherly face creaking his hands to stop turning.
He’d struggled for too long to keep time in the current unappreciated circumstance, after all. Every tick was forced and the tocks were erratically jumping ahead with an uncertain quickening quiver.
The mirror never noticed his sacrifice since time now stood still. There was no more waiting… no more longing… there was no more time for her to reflect on anything.