my cousin missed the bus today.
she was too busy stuffing herself with gluttony and forgot to grab ahold of the clock. the clock sprung from the bleached wall and made its way out of the door. at that moment, she realized that the numbers are ticking away and she followed the clock behind.
the tick tocks were falling off and the clock kept going. my cousin followed behind and tried to pick up the tick tocks, but they slipped from her fingers and glued themselves onto the pavement.
the trail of tick tocks increased and the clock ran at the same pace as a bolt. the clock threw its hands off because they kept on spinning and spinning. my cousin picked up his hands and tried to move them around, but they were paralyzed. she threw them aside and kept going.
the clock removed the number tattoos from its marked temple (g-d wrote that down in the black book) and placed them behind my cousin (how did it get back there?) she didn't notice until she was a mile away. one twelve two eleven three ten four nine five eight six seven floated past her and dissolved (into what? air? dust?)
the clock reached the bus before her and it flung itself on. she sprinted alongside the bus and tried to pound on the doors to get the bus driver's attention.
the bus driver turned his head and his tick tocks and rotating hands and stained face, leaking with twelve one eleven two ten three nine four eight five seven six stared back at her. it wore a medallion made from the starch of olympic gold.
my cousin looked down and saw a bronze medallion gripping her neck (who got silver? was it g-d? was it space? was it continuum?). she had lost at her own game.
a moment of disbelief as the clock pushed away and raced his way to the finish line.
my cousin has no clock.
