The incessant ticking of the hospital clock

The incessant ticking of the hospital clock was maddening. Especially because the second hand would sometimes have a slight hitch, likely due to a dying battery. Craig could take

his medicine and go to sleep, but that would mean those dreams again... Craig shuddered at the memories. Last night he dreamt

that he was running through a field of corn. He could hear women's voices in the distance, shouting in a strange, guttural language. Craig tried to run toward the voices, but

the voices came from different directions as soon as he got close. Craig became frustrated thinking about the fun things he could do with beautiful women and a field full of corn.

But, he went inside and slept to get those dirty thoughts out of his mind because if he had done what he was thinking he would have broken his promise to his daughter. She was

always asking him not to murder people, however unreasonable that was. "But Stace," he argued,

"You don't understand. There are certain songs that are like instant memories to me. Like a sunny side up egg on a yellow plate everytime I hear Suspicious Minds by Elvis."

My mind drifted back. "We're caught in a trap..." crooned from the jukebox. Dust motes danced in the morning sunlight as Marge dropped off the Happy Sunny Grand Slam. "Here hon,"

she gave the sundae to Homer. Homer's face and whole upper body were melted into an unrecognizable heap from nuclear radiation."Thanks Mar-izgrup. Mmm...ice furutp." Homer tried to

finish his long awaited epic poem "Odissey: Part II", but it became clear that he would need his hands, which were no more. And so disappointed with life, Homer had another sundae.