Knelt down in the dark attic she reached down and placed her palms on an old chest,
Pitch black, she knew this was a gamble.
She slammed the hammer down onto the box
The lock clicked open with the first swing.
She pulled the first item that she could feel into the dim light.
It was a small pendant,
the time was all wrong.
She wondered, what time was it?
It was gold and miniature,
it felt rustic.
She felt worn standing there in the dark,
with the gold clock perched in the palm of her left hand and a hammer suspended from the other.