The clock ticked on, repeating and repeating its sounds into the emptiness. And the rain tapped on the empty house, echoing. At eight-thirty the eggs were shrivelled and the toast was like stone. The five spots of paint - the man, the woman, the children, the ball- remained. It sniffed the air and scratched the kitchen door. Behind the door, the stove was making pancakes which filled the house with a rich baked odour and the scent of maple syrup. In the cellar, the incinerator glowed suddenly and a whirl ofsparks leaped up the chimney. The dinner dishes manipulated like magic tricks, and in the study a click. Dawn showed faintly in the east. Among the ruins, one wallstood alone. Within the wall, a last voice said, over and over again and again, even as the sun rose to shine upon the heaped rubble and steam: "Today is August 5, 2026, today is August 5, 2026, today is..."
