Goodreads asked Lisa Rector:

Can you tell us a two-sentence horror story?

Lisa Rector The silence was welcome until she noticed the ticking of the old mantel clock, the same familiar, steady drone that told her she wasn't truly alone. The awareness was meant to be a comfort, a reminder of a presence who would always linger though gone, but tonight the tick echoed in her ears and raked her spine, propelling her out of her chair and to the mantel where she shook the siren clock and begged for it to cease its anthem.

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