My Watch

There, that was the last box. Un packed and sorted. It’s contents on the floor. Arranged by areas of the house they eventually need to go. It was the random box. It was late though, and I was tired. I got up from the floor, my hips stiff and back sore. I slowly took off my watch and laid it on the shelf.  I looked at it, such a small thing, but when i placed it on the shelf I stopped. Will this be its place? Something like my mom did when I was younger. Every night the purse goes on the chair, or was it next to the chair. Its been too long, maybe I should call her. But this watch kept ticking at me, reminding me the longer I stood thinking about these things the more this was cementing as a habit. It ticked away through all of today, while I was lifting boxes and driving that truck. What will become of my life here? I took the watch and moved it to another shelf. Then back again, then turned it slightly so it was horizontal. The gentle tick just kept going. Like a kid brother saying I told you so.  I looked around to see if anyone was looking, I grabbed the watch and hurled into the couch. There was no sound for a little, I lived alone. From the window cars below let out gentle sighs, going who knows where. I shut the window. The gentle tick came back, and I went to the couch, and sat the watch back on the shelf.
Nice. But this in the fiction tribe! Quit polluting the global stream!
2021-02-06 13:49:21
lol you can't. Just write your next piece of fiction in that place instead of here. 
2021-02-06 17:21:41