No one noticed I’ve been playing with time. There have been no knocks on the door, no phone calls or any pointed fingers. Nope, not even a whisper. I’ve stopped it once and used a small handheld device to turn time backwards.
Time stopped on a Thursday. Since it was my alarm clock that actually stopped it is easy to understand why it wasn’t widely noticed. In spite of its good service the small battery operated travel alarm clock I’ve used for years retired at 10:15 PM. It is still frozen at that moment in time, paused until needed again.
For now the dogs have taken its place. We are still getting up about the same time everyday but the sound sequence changed. It’s the jingle of dog tags and big yawns, the first request to go outside before the neighbor cat can finish sneaking home on the shortcut through our yard.
As soon as I figure out how the dogs can hear the cat walking outside I’ll fix that alarm clock too and sleep past 4:30 AM occasionally.
The time machine device was surprisingly easy to use. Having been trained to use something similar when I was just a youngster I felt it was safe to turn back time for a few brief moments.
For such a small, simple object it proved to be extremely powerful. A tie to my own past, taking me back through generations of women, grandmothers and great-grandmothers. Myrtle, Alma, Roxie, Grandma Smith, Grandma Batts, the Fightsmasters, the von Weigands, women known and unknown.
My time machine was a clothes pin and even if the rest of the world still doesn’t notice when time moves backwards for just a moment or two I plan to use it again and again.