Tick. Tick tick tock. Tock. Tock tick. To-ick. Ktoik. "You are running out of time..." the clocks all sing to me in a discordant tone. Counting down the seconds I have left in this game. I am unsure which one is keeping the correct time.... maybe all of them are wrong. My opponent is waiting for my next move, but I can't keep the voices silent long enough for me to pick. Everything hinges on whether I want to press forward or begin my retreat. Would it not be safer to back away while I still have the chance? I have already come so far. There is too much pressure here, not enough air. I can't breathe anymore. I start trying to count my breaths. Tick. One. Tock. Two. Totickck. Was that 4? Maybe 5.... Kocicktotic. TOckKicIcToTICKOCKCkickO. Everything is jumbled. Breathing is erratic. I finally take the plunge. It has to be now. I- It has to be done. The sword stabs through the thin parchment laying atop my desk. Blood courses down the desk; words being slashed across the page. Life blood spilling out, spelling out words that have longed to flood the world. I have focused in on one particular clock's beat now. Boom.... boom.... boom... boom... It seems to harmonize with the war going on inside my mind. Its beat deep, sonorous, calling out to me that it is not over yet. That this is only the beginning. It whispers to me, "Time passes as all time must, but with each sound begins a new moment. We must continue forward." I sigh deeply, and press onward with the knowledge that though time may continue to move forward it means that there is still time left.