Broken Dreams.

My husband and I purchased a clock while we were vacationing in Florida in early December. It was almost two feet in length and was made in the late 1880s. The clock was shipped to us and arrived the morning that I learned my sister passed away. This is what we discovered inside the crate when we were finally able to open it the next day. In many ways, it was poetic. My nerves, my brain, and my heart were shattered by Ann's death. And the utter uselessness of all "things" became crystal clear.