“It’s about the watch, isn’t it? Hasn’t it always been about the watch? You have it there, splayed out with its alligator bands, just like new, except for that impression across that one particular hole, so well preserved, mocking me. When hasn’t it been about the watch? Precious thing. More important than anything, anyone, else. The watch. Now here, of all places, sitting on that dark golden oak table; the color of which can only be achieved though age, sits the watch. Timeless. Ticking. Tormenting. The audacity of having it there, sitting in the fading sun. Glistening. You know I can’t keep my eyes off it, the watch. When will it be over? Ever? How can anything physical have so much meaning? Here, I pace around this vast hollow, damp room, and there it is. Why? Why place it there? Why isn’t it where I’ve seen it all my life? Why have it in this room, on this table, today? Of all things in my life, that I’ll remember the most is the watch. Watching the watch. Being told about the watch. Story after story about the watch. I want to smash it. Is that why it is here? A test? A test of my resolve against the watch? You know it represents so much more than a timepiece. The watch. It is all your life lessons distilled into a single mechanical possession. A history book, of sorts. Here in this timeless room, the watch. I will not give you what you seek. I will not release my own traits. You can keep it. The watch.”

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Seizure of the Day

Reflections

Raven’s Rest