The Clock That Ran Backward

Mira found the antique clock in a dusty thrift shop, its brass hands frozen at 11:11. It was beautiful, so she bought it and set it on her mantle. That night, as she lay in bed, the chimes rang.

She glanced at her phone—3:17 AM.

But the clock read 3:16.

A minute later, it ticked back to 3:15.

The next morning, she woke up to her phone buzzing. It was her sister, hysterical. Their childhood home had caught fire—at exactly 3:17 AM.

Mira stared at the clock, which now sat still at 3:17. The scorched outline of a handprint had appeared on its glass face.