A Second Passes or Why Clocks are Sold so Frequently

I watched silently as the hands on my new brass, brightly polished clock made their exciting circular journey.
I was waiting.
I knew it was going to happen.
The big event.
I could feel a tear of agony running sharply down my nose and sinking inevitably through my lips filling my mouth with an unpleasant salty taste.
It was going to happen.
I knew the time was coming.
Tick
Tock.
A horrible noise. I could barely stand to hear it screech on and on and on and on and on through the night. What a noise! What a horrible horrible noise.
But I knew it was going to happen. I could feel it coming closer. But no matter how hard I tried to Yet, Not Yet, Not Yet.
I was
Just sitting
In my chair.
Tick
Tock.
But it was coming. Even my most painful struggles were blurred out by that thought.
Tick
Tock.
Tick
Tock.
My eyes began to scream in pain as they lay dead tick after tock after tick after tock.
But it was then the clock ticked its last tick, tocked its last tock and there was suddenly a triumphant crash of noise.
The time was here.
I leaped into the air with glee and ran round the room cheering. It was here! It was finally here! The time was here! My eyes where singing, my arms where flailing wildly, my feet where rising and plummeting in beat to a silent tune. My entire body was insane with celebration.
Madness!
Tick
Tock.
Back to the chair.
Tick
Tock.
Just sitting
In my chair.
Tick
Tock
Watching my new brass, brightly polished clock.