She refused to buy a digital clock for her bedside table.
She was worried about getting stuck in some kind of “Groundhog Day” time loop. Instead, she bought an old clock with arms nestled behind a rounded glass cover. The reassuring hands of the clock clicked softly forward and gave off an eerie atomic green shimmer in the dark.
She could doze off to its whispery analog sounds and whether she woke from a dead sleep or a fitful dream, always find her place in real time.