Slow Time

This morning I woke up hard and slow.

Everything was ponderous and I felt like my feet weighed a hundred pounds.

After struggling through a shave and shower I was buoyed by the sight of a cool sunrise-lit cloud line over the ocean. It was dramatic, red and independent from the rest of the sky. I fished my memory card out of the reader, plugged it back into the camera and continued dressing.

But everything was still slow and I felt drugged. By the time I was ready to leave the cloudline had been burned apart by the rising sun. I hesitated and wavered my hand over it, but in the end I left the camera bag on the coffee table. The sky was dull and flat now.

Next it's time to get gas. The place was full so I went around the corner and got coffee.

I finally got back to the pump and walked around the car to open the cap. Each step around the car seemed like a chore. Time was running incredibly slowly. I watched the numbers of the gas pump escalate like I was under water. $1.00... $1.10... $1.15. Each number seemed to tick by ridiculously slowly. Birds flew by with wing flaps so exaggerated I was dully surprised they stayed aloft.

Then a disembodied voice said "Stop".

I looked around but there was no one around.

"Stop." said the deep, authoritative voice again.

It was the guy from the store over the speaker. I had shopped there a hundred times but never heard the speaker before. I was somehow surprised it existed. "Stop" he repeated. "Stop the pump for 5 seconds and start again. It will go faster."

I nodded and obeyed. Success! The gas started flowing faster and my brain began to keep pace, pulled into the timescape of the living by a five second pump pause.

With my brain right I saw the good light had slipped around behind the house next door and was illuminating it with dazzling results. I should have taken my camera after all.