I Saw the Time Change Sunday Morning

I'd gone to bed about eight the night before, so waking up at one in the morning wasn't so bad. Five good hours on the new memory-foam mattress cover that arrived on Thursday.

What to do?

Who am I kidding? It was off to the little room at the other end of the hall where my baby was waiting for me like she always does, my little PC. Soon I was back in the saddle and roaming the Internet range.

In no time at all, I noticed the clocks around me were indicating the one o'clock hour was nearing it's end. Soon it would be the moment when time would speed forward an hour in the first of the semi-annual time slips of the current year.

As the second hand clicked on the final 12 of the hour, I felt the silence descend around me as the very atoms in my body slipped their moorings, shuddered, and began to expand in a timeless explosion, carrying me out of myself into infinity.

In that nanomoment I saw wondrous sights that are impossible to recall to mind. The very hour that would not be was shown to me to be full of limitless possibilities. Worlds would rise and fall in that microcosmic bang, and seers and singers would extol their myths, myths we would never hear or seek to comprehend.

Then time brought me back, and it was three o'clock Sunday morning.

We had indeed slipped past an hour, but that hour lived in its own space and time, far away from us and hidden from our grasp.