Writing Away Writers Block

I'm having a wee bit of a hard time finding words tonight, so I'm just going to write something. Anything. Just going to let my fingers hit the keys and see what happens.

 Proceed with caution. 

The raven was sitting on my writing desk when I walked in.
"Let me guess, Nevermore?" I said to ebony beast. It cawed at me in response, flapping it's wings in a weak attempt to intimidate me. But it didn't, nothing could intimidate me, especially this sorry excuse for a creature.

I walk carefully over to my bay window and fling it open. The cold fingers of the morning air caress my cheeks and play with my hair.

"Get!" I shout at the beast, "Get out!" I throw fist in the air and wave my arms. But the raven just sits there, its head cocked to the side staring at me with it's beady little eyes.

 "Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul has spoken!" I shout. A tiny trickle fear lands in the back of my throat. I can understand why Mr. Edgar Allen Poe did not like this bird. This stubborn, lazy, creepy bird.

"What is it that you want? Would like a snack, yeah? Wee bit of bread crumbs for your lips? Well I don't have anything for you." It continued to stare and I stared back. "I'll ring up the exterminator on you. Is that what you want? To be some french maids feather duster. It'd sure put you to good use."

What was with this thing? Why was it here? Why wouldn't it leave? It leaned down towards my desk and pecked at with it's beak. "Oi, don't do that. That's brand new." This time I go up and push a little with my hand, but I don't feel anything. I do it again and it reacts like it has been hit. But the feathers to not tickle my skin, and I do not feel the pain of the beak pecking my hand.

"What are you?" I quietly mutter. It's caw echoes in the high ceiling of my office. I could almost make out a word, but then that would mean I was crazy. It cawed loudly again, and this time I think I can make out something.
"Hide?" I repeat.
The raven nodded its head.
I froze and my eyes dart to the sealed envelope on my desk. For some reason I listen to this rare bird. I grab the envelope and hide under the desk.
The raven does not move nor does it make a sound.
But some other unidentifiable sound fills the air, one that sends a metallic taste to my mouth. The sound gets louder and louder until the windows shatter.
The sound is cut off by the ringing of an old fashion telephone. The sound was more eerie than the caw of the raven.

Two pairs of orange tennis shoes appear in front of me, I can see them from desk.
"Come out Lenore. Come out, come out where every you are." A man's voice coaxes.
I squeeze the envelope tighter into my chest and hold by breath. The must not see the raven on my desk or maybe the thing had the smarts to leave.

"Oh Lenore, you can't hide forever." The man says. "We will find you. It's only a matter of time."

"Ha." Laughs a different male voice. "That's funny. Time. What Lenore doesn't know is that the clock has broken. What is time anymore?'

I gasp too loudly, the two pairs orange shoes rush toward me, their arms rip me out from under the desk, taking the envelope from my grasp. But these men are the least of my worries.

The clock has been broken.
Time is collapsing.