The Voice, Sir

"Hey! Get down from there!" The carpenter shouted as his young apprentice clambered out of the tree.

"Sorry sir." The apprentice patted himself down, dust falling onto the cobbled pathway.

"What are you even doing up in the trees? Are you a bleeting squirrel?!"

"No sir. It told me to do it." The apprentice met the carpenter's gaze, who squinted in confusion.

"What?"

"It, sir."

"What is it?"

"The voice."

"...Are you good, kid?"

"I'm of perfect health, sir. I've been hearing it my whole life."

"..." The carpenter blinked and tilted his head. "What are you talking about?"

"Its led me through it all. It has purpose, it has a vision. I am but a brush stroke in its endless tapestry. I was created to be its vessel and I shall bring its truth to whom I can."

"...Whatever. None of this religious talk in the workshop. Let's go."

"Of course, sir." And the two returned to workshop. The clock chimed 12 AM and the gears churned again. The three hundredth rotation of the grand clock begins.