Chattering
At first he'd struggled to sleep despite the sound, but now he had almost ceased to
notice it.
Click, click, click.
It was a rhythm for his journey, a pace setter. Three clicks, and another
exhausted step was behind him.
Click, click, click.
He awoke each morning to ferocious light and the taste of
blood.
Even when he spat fragments (click) of his teeth (click) onto
the ice (click), he felt no (click) pain. The nerves (click)
of his jaw (click) were dulled (click) by
the cold.
Click.
Click.
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