Last night, nobody noticed when the world stopping spinning.
Well, why would they, it's quite slow anyway.
Yet, stop it did, giving a deep sigh, slowing starting up again in the opposite direction.
Everything back from whence it came.
Cats started barking and mice chased dogs. Muggers stole from one another and gave their loot to little old ladies.
Fish sported canes and giraffes held tea parties. Paperboys placed your daily reads gently on the doorstep and closed the gate behind them.
You stopped on green, went on red, pressed up to go down, and down to go up.
You remembered your mother's birthday, your door keys, and to pay the phone bill.
You forgot your team lost on Sunday, that you can't really afford that uber coffee, and that some guy yelled at you on the train.
Maybe all these things didn't really happen, but I think they must have, how else could you explain how ET and I celebrated her getting her period and the passing of another cycle.
Twenty behind us, the sweltering tarmac of cycle twenty-one stretching ahead of us. Our freshly serviced engine is gleaming in the sunshine, and revving, ready to burst forward at a millisecond's notice.
Roll on next week, spinning anti-clockwise, this could be the one.