Thursday, June 21, 2007


The book is absorbing all of my attention, as I sit on the couch late at night, reading.

An impulse comes to me, and I lift my arm in front of my face. I stare blankly at my bare wrist where my watch has been during the day. As I look around the room, I see that the VCR is turned off. There is no clock on the wall. The entire room contains nothing that will tell me when now is.

At moments like these, in the small hours,

time ceases to pass, and in fact, to exist.

There is only



Anonymous karla robles said...

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10:58 PM  

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