Semi-Daily Scribbles

Hattie wears a watch that stopped ticking years ago. The face is a maze of spider veins and the band is dry and cracked. Hattie and her keepsake have a lot in common, and they both know better than to mark each slipping minute. Tomorrow has stretched beyond Hattie's reach, and yesterday is tied around her wrist. Tickless. Tockless. Now is a good time to let the present unfold.