Throughout the film, a persistent ticking clock serves as an auditory anchor to Maurice’s mental state. At first, it exists subtly in the background—ordinary, almost unnoticed. But as his isolation deepens and his grasp on reality begins to slip, the ticking stretches, echoes, and distorts. It becomes less a marker of time and more a reflection of his internal pressure. The same transformation happens with the voices he hears: familiar and grounded at first, then gradually dissolving into layered whispers and reverberations, blurring the boundary between memory, fear, and imagination.