1727. A little girl sleeps in a too-big bed in a too-big house in a too-big world of intrigue and seduction. She stares at the fire in her too-big fireplace and sees a man. A lonely angel. She'll see him again.

1996. A little girl prays in a too-big house in a too-small world of cracks and silence. She hears a sound in her too-big garden and finds a man. A mad man with a box. He always comes back.

Reinette's world seems to grow and grow, and she glitters as everything she touches turns gold, a glowing princess. The only thing stopping her is the ticking ticking ticking that follows wherever she goes, the stately march of time.

Amelia's world shrinks until there is almost nothing, not even stars. No stars, just a boy with a big nose who is anything but mad. She doesn't realize that he's plastic, and plastic lasts even longer than tin. She's no princess, and she has no fireplace. The fire is inside her; her hair is red.

Like clockwork he comes again. She's a woman now, and he reads her thoughts like a book. She's more literate than he realizes; she can read upside down. Now he's her lonely angel. Even angels need a kiss, though the giver is incomplete.

Half-awake, half-asleep, she takes the last words of an old man. A third childhood, or is it a first? She should be a woman now. Traces of other lives lie dormant in her head. She is old and young at the same time somehow. He's rewinding; she's beginning. He kisses her good night. Maybe that's why she always wanted to snog him.

Reinette knows now how small the world really is. After all is said and done and the clocks are silenced forever, there's not much left. For a glittering moment, the angel is trapped, and perhaps life will be bearable. But it's all wrong, and she knows it. A fireplace is too small to hold him. She's finally complete.

Amy is on fire. She never expects to see him again, but he always comes back. She can't shut a bow tie in a car door, but she can break the heart beneath it. She's wrong, somehow, incomplete. Brittle. Breakable. A wooden ballerina with a plastic soldier and a mad wizard.

He says he'll come back. It's almost a proposal. She stares through the fireplace with excitement. She hardly minds watching him disappear again. Next time will be the last, and they'll never be apart again.

He says he'll never come back. She watches him in the strange half light, knowing she's seeing him for the last time. Last words of a madman. Gotcha, but she's released instead. She watches him disappear and wakes up in a house that's just the right size.

Reinette stops looking. The sad truth is, the lord of time is subject to its whims. She's had many lovers in her shrinking world, but never the one she wants most. Regret turns to memory and finally release. The ticking is silent. The Angel is lonely.

There will be plenty of stars the night of Amy's wedding. Her plastic soldier fights valiantly with his toothbrush; she's never been so complete or felt so incomplete. Only a madman would use a nursery rhyme to save his life. A madman with a box. Dream turns to memory and finally reality. He always comes back.

The mad angel leaves the party early and goes back to his box. It's his lot to be alone. He thinks of the night he came back to find the first little girl gone forever. He smiles because tonight he saw the other little girl married, so it's all right. Suddenly, he hears something behind him. He turns around to find that you don't always have to be the one who comes back; sometimes the others come back for you.