For the Wednesday Write-in
“You must be tired, because you’ve been running through my mind all day.” The girl is grimacing before she even finishes and Marie shakes her head, frustrated. “No no, sorry. Jesus, I’m a fucking idiot.” She takes her pocket watch out and spins the seconds hand back for the fifth time. The noisy common room slows and then reverses, pushing back the repercussions of the future, giving her a little more time to get the present right this time.