written by owen

On friday at 3 oclock the clock tower in Half-Way-Tree rang out over the wet, densely packed traffic filled street of my cold little island. Its was a familar or even expected sound that didn't phase me as much as it did the old man. He looked up at it puzzled. Fly in his plaid shirt and his hair was all gray, he hadn't heard it ring in over 30 years. He turned to look up at it as if it was a second coming, a mysterious flying octopus or an erect wii. I didn't not stop to question him further, my lunch break was already up and I had to navigate my way down between the cars that were parked in the intersection.

All the lights where on green and everybody was going nowhere at the same time. I stop by the back of York Pharmacy to charge my "Smart Card" bus pass while watching the shorties walk by. I had used it all on my last trip because I am sans car. The bus terminus in front of Mother's was already packed with schoolers and the lazy the people that are lucky enough to leave work early. I did not see any that I know, I know a few. Most were wrapped in winter coats.

The street is still filled with poddles of water as I navigate the crowd of people, standing sans bus - hurrying to get to their respective plots of land. I won't be one of the them as I find my way back to the office like a bird finds her way back to the nest - things to do. I approach another intersection, just as packed as the one before sans clock. The people are less now, as if I've passed through a swarm of bees. The cars mock me as I walk by.

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