The Clock That Counted Silence

In an abandoned tower stood a clock with no hands. It didn’t measure hours or minutes, but silence. Whenever two people shared a quiet moment — not awkward, but meaningful — the clock chimed softly, as if acknowledging something sacred. Poets came from distant cities to sit beside it, hoping its chimes would validate the weight of their unwritten words. Some nights, the tower echoed endlessly with sound, suggesting that the most important conversations are the ones carried by the spaces between sentences.