A child is alone in the living room when the clock strikes eleven. The room is a dark and forbidding place, and the child, suddenly and without provocation, sets foot in it and begins to play. Suddenly the light comes on, and the child turns round to see the horrible apparatus that is now playing before him. It is a hideous clock, with a black and monstrous face, and a ticking mechanism that, far from being a mere device for passing numbers, is rather an evil machine. The ticking stops, and the black box that contains the ticking mechanism opens and shuts, as if in a dream. In the distance, you can see the workers lining up for their night-shifts at the local factory.