an untimely exit
“oh dear.”
the heads turned to me, one by one. had i spoken aloud? the speaker was looking at me strangely, his hand still raised midair and pointed at the screen, so it seemed i had.
“did you have something to say, mr. clock?” the speaker asked.
well i had to say something now, didn’t i?
“i guess i do. i’ve just realized that i was supposed go convince george washington to accept his presidency today.” i pulled out my stopwatch, a simple thing made out of aztec gold. vintage, as the kids these days would call it.
“i’m sorry?”
i shook my head ruefully. “so am i, darius. i hope i won’t be too late to the dinner or else none of you might exist in a few moments!” i twisted the knob on the stopwatch located precisely 37 degrees clockwise of the 0000 exactly four and a half times.
“mr. clock, i’m not sure what you’re saying—“
“yes, of course you don’t. well, good luck with everything, everyone!” and all was sucked into a pinpoint located somewhere in the distance ahead, and i closed my eyes for the ride.