The Singing Alarm Clock

“Oh boy!” thought Fnordly, the wind-up alarm clock, “it’s almost time!”
The night was coming to a close as the first faint wisps of daylight shyly drifted through the window and Fnordly’s hands slowly swung around to six-o’clock.
“Gosh,” he thought, excitedly, “my first day and I’m ready to go!”
He was wound up snug, ticking merrily away at the passing seconds, set for six a.m. and anxious to try out his voice in his new home. He knew that he had a loud, sharply clear tone and that he would sing out in ringing glory. He had been made quite well and was confident that his new owner, asleep in the bed next to the table upon which he sat, would wake and enjoy the serenade. Last night his owner had unpacked him from his box, read all the instructions, carefully wound, set and placed him on the bedside table. Now, several hours later, Fnordly was growing excited as the seconds ticked by toward six-o’clock.
The mechanisms within him moved closer to release, so he drew several deep (tick-tocks) to compose himself, then, “RRRRRRRRIIIIIINNNNNGGGGGGG…” he loudly sang, “R-R-R-R-RIINNGGG…” he melodiously wailed, “R-R-R-RIIIINNGG…” smoothly, “R-RIIINNNGGG…” steadily, “…RRIINNGGG…” easier, “Rrriinngg…” slower, “iiinnnggg…” quieter, “nnnggg…” and finally, with, “nnggg…” he ran out of his spring driven breath and stopped.
“Wow,” he thought, “That was wonderful!” He had had no idea that his song would be so tremendously rich and rewarding, or that it would provide such a deep sense of fulfillment throughout his inner workings. He sat ticking away, relaxed and sleepy in the after-glow comfort of satisfied contentment, and dozed off…
Suddenly, he was grabbed from his slumber to hear a groggy voice irately complain, “Nine o’clock! Didn’t this stupid clock even go off?! Bah! That makes me late for work every day this week!” and with that Fnordly was unceremoniously tossed into the nearby wastebasket.
“We thought your singing was beautiful, “chorused the four other alarm clocks already in the basket.

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