My first clue that time had stopped was when I noticed the analogue clock in my son’s room said 7:36. I had already been awake for hours, long enough to make three breakfasts, one for each of us. Long enough for Betty the dog to be given a long, long walk, a task I delegated to my other child whose room does not have an analogue clock. Betty had three poos I’m told. She just now had another. This means I have to get a different dog food that requires I go to a store I hate because it is owned by a ridiculous man who is just so ridiculous that the words to describe him are ridiculously absent. There are many like him. Wait. I forgot. I have time. I will make my own dog food.

It is still 7:36, day or night, so I will be late for work either way. I don’t care a whole lot, not terribly much.

This day I also took a bath because I couldn’t remember how many days it had been since my last one. I said a rosary because that is one thing I can do. Last night I prayed, too, for my sister who has been feverish for days despite testing negative for Covid19 with the American made test. I prayed for my children, which is really just praying for myself, because they were melting down like wax on a light bulb. They were hitting out, kicking up their feet and flailing their arms like three year olds. The difference here is that teenage bodies engaging in such tornadic behavior causes plaster to fall from the ceiling. At any rate, I asked, “what am I supposed to do?” The answer was, “Nothing.” This is a hard lesson for me. As of 7:36, the storm seems to have passed.

I’ve noticed that with the gears of time jammed up as they are, the weather is quite bizarre. We had three mini blizzards complete with darkened, wind whipped skies. These blizzards were divided up by three trumpets of intense sunshine. It is still 7:36 and the weather appears to be calm. No, not calm. It is still, like a cat ready to pounce.

At 7:36, a feral kitten-cat slunk past the back porch. Finally the troops have arrived! The mice inside the house are out of hand. I asked St Francis to see about this when they began construction on an apartment building inside the oven. I don’t want to do poison because of the chain, you know the one, how every action affects every other action and lives will be lost. Of course, I think about Betty and how, despite her magnificent dog wisdom, cannot discern between what is good to ingest and what is not.

Well, it’s still 7:36, a little early to get up since we’ve already had breakfast, too early to go to sleep for the night, and nowhere near the time to go to work. It is, however, the perfect time for a nap.

5 thoughts on “7:36

  1. Oh, this is great. Cracked me up the return to the non time over and over again and made me hurt for all. Thanks, Miz Shan.

  2. How enjoyable! Love your writings. Starting the 4th week of isolating here. Time has stopped. I need hugs. I open my door. I peek out to my patio. I cautiously walk outside. Then I remember I live in the country and there is no one else around! I bask in the sun.

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