I woke, and found the hour returned for revision. End of daylight savings, an hour that repeats itself: from 2am to 3am, and then back to 2am again.
That re-lived hour changed everything.
Take both forks in the road. Try alternatives, side by side. I lived the first hour trapped, obsessed; then went a different way when the hour started again. In the dark hours, a resolution to the dilemma, and I became free in a new way.
Or explore it multiply round-the-clock & superimpose the hours until time is like Comet Holmes expanding.
All day I re-live each of the hours when I pass clocks, the large blue-rimmed one that ticks loudly on the kitchen wall, the yellow-lit numbers on the stove, the travel clock on the bathroom shelf amidst coloured stones strewn around a conch shell, my electric bedside clock with its red LCD numbers, and my tiny silver watch, some are changed, and some aren't, absurdly I like it like that, playing with time, repeating each hour.
I envision changing my watch on the subway platform in the morning, stale underground air, crowded, turning the dial and watching the hands unweave the forever spiralling forward of time.
Today, the 25 hour day, when time repeats itself in the shift towards the light.
Sheath of feeling. Words groping to touch air.
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my husband, who is the biggest time freak in the world, claims this day to be his favorite of the entire year! he gets an extra hour, and he loves the idea. he is always trying to figure out ways to conserve time, how to multi-task so he can save time, keeping up with minutes wasted in traffic, etc. he grinned all afternoon! silly man. no one gave him anything but the hour that was stolen months ago!
ReplyDeleteSky, thank you, what a delightful story!
ReplyDeleteExcellent post, beautifully written and thought provoking too!
ReplyDeleteThank you Crafty Green Poet (what a neat name for a blog and blog persona)!
ReplyDelete