Sunday, February 14, 2010
Just for today
If it were the last thing on earth I could wish for, I want to be home, just for today.
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Ping
She always liked the moment when she had a clock in pieces, with every wheel and spring carefully laid out on the black velvet cloth in front of her. It was like looking at Time, dismantled, controllable, every part of it understood... She wished her life was like that. It would be nice to reduce it to bits, spread them all out on the table, clean and oil them properly and put them together so that they coiled and spun like they ought to. But sometimes it seems that her life had been assembled by a not very competent craftswoman, who had allowed a number of small but important things to go ping into the corners of the room.
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