thenonobsesser

On the first day of school I rode the bus with all the other children from my town There was a rhythm on that bus. The driver would drive to the next neighborhood and stop near a kid's house. The student would then say goodbye to her friends and calmly walk home. It was a constant rhythm. Drive, stop, walk. Drive, stop, walk. There was a little boy on that bus, no older than nine, who would always break that rhythm. The bus would stop, and he would leave without saying a word to anyone. The moment his feet touched the pavement though, he would run as if the devil himself were on his heels. Every day as the bus pulled out, I would watch the

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. The clock on Tikh’s wall sang to her as she toyed with a piece of thread. It was not one from and hourglass, much to her dismay, but it was a fun toy nonetheless. Her long fingers wove the thread into impossibly complex and beautiful designs and she giggled at each one before unthreading it and starting over again. Finally she looked over at her partner, who was lounging on a couch reading a book. “Tokh,” she drawled, “how long has it been in the world since we set her up?” Tokh looked up from his book and pulled a pocket watch from his coat. He flipped it open and studied the twenty gold