Where I live now, there’s a mantelpiece clock that chimes on the quarter hour. It can intimidate or comfort, because time is like that. Bong. Another fifteen-minute section gone.
I haven’t owned a watch since 2008, when I retired (on health grounds – I wasn’t that old, then). I had always removed it the moment I got home, because it irritated my wrist to be marking time on my own time.
I don’t remember that last watch, or my first for that matter. But I do remember my first clock. Rigid yellow plastic with red pull-out tabs. An educational toy, or instrument of torture, dreaded daily.
Often since then I’ve failed wilfully to replace batteries and taken the consequences, surprisingly few. Get thee behind me, time.
And you see, it has, and it will. Ever faster, because time is like that.