Time zone

I noticed the other day that I still have my alarm clock on my bedside table, even though it’s not plugged in.   I unplugged it at the beginning of the summer, because I needed the outlet for my window fan.

 

There it sits, utterly unused.  In fact, it’s filthy with dust.  I love that my alarm clock is visibly decaying from lack of use.  I’m going to keep it there until it collapses, until it crumbles.  I will be haunted by the ghost of my alarm clock, as it quietly drifts over my head in an unearthly greenish LED glow, feebly emitting vaguely remembered bleats and morning radio programs.  And I will laugh at this ghost, as I turn over in my bed and fall back asleep.

 

 

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