And there is the sound of rain outside.

There is  a new clock on the wall. It is almost one hundred years old, an electric clock, made in France.
And it works, careful coaxing and adjustment doing the work. It will need a minute drop of oil, then it will be perfect.
Seen that way, a good purchase. It was sold in Le Havre, once. A clock shop there, most likely. But now it came by mail from the south of France, well packed.

And now, as every weekend, alone in the living room.
It is the son's birthday today, he is fifteen.

He is awake, his birthday greetings and a birthday present are presented.
Thank you.
He is happy and he is well.

The clock ticks, a soft noise
And there is the sound of rain outside.

It would all be in order, were it not for the depressing mess all around.