Presently, I'm reading The Time Traveler's Wife-- and yes, it has become all too apparent to me how trippy "time" is. One moment it's here... and the next moment... it's here. Only different. Trimmed down and lean with loneliness. Or fat from a diet of constant companionship.
At least that's the way it is for Henry, the librarian. Hopping to and fro, tip-toeing hither and yon, through out-of-order moments in space/time. Naked. (Apparently you can't time travel with stuff, including clothes.) How does he have time to restock books? Zip zapping around like that...
As for me... I'm flummoxed to a good ol' fashion linear time line, kerplunked down on the grid, wearing jeans, a t-shirt and sweater, oh and occasional eye make-up. The only excuse I have is "time" is in constant motion ticking and tocking until there just doesn't seem to be a second left in the day to write. See? That's how it happens. When I checked my blog site entries this morning, I had to squint, blink a dozen times, and rub my eyes. August?? You've got to be kidding!!
As I continue this week to read about the time leaping naked husband, I'm hoping to take this whole "moment to moment" continuum thing more lyrically-- toss some new words around the time line-- and supplant a lazy five minutes with a sentence or two. Are you with me on this??
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