I met a girl yesterday who wore a necklace with a clock face on it.
The clock was functional, she told me, but she pulled out the screw every morning and set the time to 11:11. She was waiting, she said, to meet the man of her dreams. Then, she confided, she'd press the screw to start time on some sort of magic moment and the rest of her life would be a dream come true.
All of this was a secret. I'm not supposed to tell you, but secrets don't make friends.
I can't say that I blame her for trying, but all of her ramblings made me ill. I secretly hoped that her hand would brush the screw and push forward the longer of the hands and at 11:12 in her life, some man would start her timer and she'd have a little regret in her storehouses, just like the rest of us. Plus, I thought the clock's face to be garish, just like her optimism.
I didn't tell her that, though.
They may not make friends, but they do keep them.

Labels: clocks, friends, secrets, wishes