The Clock (Fiction)

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8 months ago
Topics: Story, Writing, Fiction, Scifi, Quantum, ...

The streets were empty. Only a few droplets of rain pouring on my coat while I was enjoying a few moments of silence in a city that never sleeps. Winter is not my favorite season even though in London the temperatures rarely drop below zero. When I woke up in the morning everything was shrouded in mist but then, as the hours passed by the fog lifted, leaving space for the houses to breathe again.

I stopped as usual in front of the tube station enjoying my last cigarillo when I noticed something was wrong with the big clock stretching upwards. I looked to the side and back on the clock again to ensure I wasn’t hallucinating. Here I was mesmerized by a piece of stone with a boring watch at the top witnessing as the clock’s hand went backwards.

The Christmas tree protruded upwards on the right side in full splendor enchanting the hearts of passengers who would go to work in the morning or arrive back to the station after a busy day. Two reindeers and a few red parcels were placed underneath the tree inviting parents to take photos while children explored everything in a very curious way.

The owner of a small retail shop just across the street turned the lights off in his store and headed towards his car clearly marked by a long day of work. He was the last soul I’ve seen in the past half an hour.

So here I was looking mesmerized upwards and not a souls to talk to. Whether someone would join me at the station or not was unclear at this moment as the next tube was scheduled to arrive only in about forty minutes.

Why was this clock suddenly going backwards? I murmured to myself.

I’ve come to this station for the past twenty years and this never happened before. As I was having this illustrate conversation with myself, an older lady with several plastic bags appeared out of nowhere. She looked homeless and unshowered but that didn’t keep me from approaching her although her look wanted to avoid mine in any case.

“Wait a second Madame. Please. I’d like to ask you a question” I said.

The older woman looked up, waiting for me to continue where I left off.

“Could you please look up and tell me what time it is? I left my glasses at home and can’t see clearly in the distance”.

She briefly looked up and answered: “It’s ten past two in the morning”.

Before she could hit it off and leave me puzzled by my experience, I quickly followed up with another question: “Madame, is the clock working well? Does anything about this clock look weird to you?”

She gave me that particular look, you know, the one that says: “What a weirdo” before she looked up again for a few seconds waiting for the clock hand to move in time.

“The clock is alright sir. Now it’s thirteen past two.”

Before I could say thank you, the lady vanished between the cars that were parked along the side of the road next to the tube station leaving me standing there in the dark.

I never needed glasses. I used this excuse to get a proper answer and partly because I was somehow ashamed to confess what I saw. I looked up again and the time I saw was entirely different. It said fifteen to two o’clock in the morning. Everything was running backwards when I raised my eyes trying to read the time.

Forty minutes later the tube arrived at the station. According to the time I saw on the clock it was five past one o’clock. I ran forward to the conductor and asked him about the time before I quickly jumped on the train. The time he told me left me speechless. According to his watch, it was five past midnight.

A few drunken teenagers were enjoying themselves in the carriage while an older couple that looked very much in love were discussing the latest musical they just watched. I sat down on a chair, continuing the enlightened conversation I previously had with myself.

The last time this happened to me was when I was at school in seventh grade. I used to enjoy traveling back in time at that age. And now, here I was, almost sixty years old, having the same experience.

I wasn’t taking any medications nor was I sleep deprived or on some kind of drugs.

What activated this special gift in me again I once cherished so much?

💎💎💎 Krisz Rokk 💎💎💎

Creative art by Daniela S.

Originally published on the Hive blockchain at @KriszRokk

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8 months ago
Topics: Story, Writing, Fiction, Scifi, Quantum, ...