0202 I stand around fingers in my mouth such a shit habit. Nothing to do nothing drops, I guess I’ll hide around for another fifteen minutes, checking the time by intervals of twos, walking around usually singing the blues, the birds’ll start to tweet along to one mans lonesome songs. It’s 0217 back to the dream. The dream of my life the dreams of my wife, clicking my buttons pretending to stop, just to keep going and maybe do some distracting. The bossman approaches time to scurry, grab a broom with a hurry, try to look busy with a slight impish grin, it’s 0232 I’ve made it again. 0247 comes pretty fast zooming around corners with a squeal of the tires, hold on to my horses i’ve got all this time, so I’ll slow myself down and look at the clock, I’ll be picked and packed and 0300 it’ll be onward to lunchtime! Onward, Writing this stupid rhyme about how I’m wasting all my time!

Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.