On Skype, in the wee hours:
[03:02:33] lifelessons: oops. how did it get to be 3 AM?
[03:03:01] okcforgottenman: Time is a snake.
[03:03:29] lifelessons: now that is a blog for you!
[03:03:55] okcforgottenman: Maybe a mutual challenge?
The Muse blindsided me, taking clattering control of my rum-drunk fingertips. As I watched astonished, those four words appeared on my screen.
Time is a Snake
In this time of smartphones, a wristwatch
(by now an artifact, but mine)
curls upward with an awkward grace
on the end of my bony arm
to show me time and date and weekday.
I hiss my response to your “You got the time?”.
Subways are the worst, slithering beneath the city.
People! Asking the time! My time! Hsssssss.
Time is a snake, but it is my snake.
You can read Judy’s response here.
I’d love to see what some of you would (will?) write using the same prompt. Please?
(I’m intrigued by this bony-armed serpent-obsessed misanthropic cellphone-eschewing narrator fellow that the Muse put into my head & out again through my fingertips (fingersnakes?). I think I want to explore his (lack of?) character in some more blog posts. He seems to me a bit like a Batman comic villain without the backbone, or perhaps a muggle version of Voldemort.)