Frozen Chosen

Gather ye time pieces while ye may,
my hands are a knocking,
this same watch that ticks today,
tomorrow won't be tocking.

Earlier last week I reported that my faithful watch of twelve years had suffered a dead battery and that my world was coming to shreds. Save for the occasional battery replacement, I have woken up to its alarm every day for twelve year. The only relationships that can top the watch in terms of length and consistency are God, parents, brother, and security pillow. This morning, I finally took it to "shop," but was told that no battery could salvage its weary soul. It was hopeless before it even got there, and was pronounced dead on arrival.

Because I have literally been walking around all weekend without any sense of time and date, this afternoon, Mother gave me her watch for the time being. I was in the garage, about to get into my dad's car and head back into Boston. "The light has stopped working," she said off-handedly, "so it might need a battery change soon." "Well, I only need it for a few weeks." Ah, famous last words.

Two minutes later, before Father's car was even out of the driveway, the watch was dead in my hands. I merely pushed a button and it started buzzing, then everything went blank. I wonder if sundials will now crumble at my finger tips.

That's Moi: 2, Father Time: 0