Essay About Ka-Tank And Cantankerous Little Alarm Clock

My Alarming Dream
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” My Alarming Dream ” My little old copper alarm clock
rests on my desk tick – tocking away each inevitable
second of the day, only to shake, rattle, and ring me to
wake every morning. As I lay there in bed, half dead,
sometimes wishing maybe that I was, achy and tired
stretching and scratching like a jungle cat, I feel the morning
crawl into my house. The smell of fresh coffee creeps under
my door my sisters radio blares the newest teen sensation
and drowns out the morning news light seeps in through
cracks in my curtains and the cold of a winter night forces
me to burrow back under a warm heap of scratchy old
quilts as I tell myself, “five more minutes and Ill get up.” I
contort myself into a comfortable knotty little ball under the
heavy coverings and bury my head into the broken-in old
feather pillow searching for warmth and what remains of
my last dream. BRRRIIIIAAAAAANNNNGGGGG,
ka-tank, tank, ka-tunk. My brain is electrocuted to life by
the cantankerous little alarm clock. Its fine springs and
wires click into their places the polished metal bells get beat
by the whipping hammer as it snaps back and forth. The
bells scream out in alarm. It hops and jumps does the wake
up dance on its stubby little legs, just to tell me its time to
go. As the clock stops dancing I reach out from my cave
with a daring hand and grab it. Its shockingly cold and
damp nearly frozen by the night air that had blown in
through my still open window. Only after Ive set the clock
down, do I notice the face has been frosted over by the
nights