The first time they went to bed, he entered the room and she said “You’re wearing a different watch.”
He glanced at it, as if seeing the black rubber thing on his wrist for the first time. He said tentatively, “It’s my night watch.”
“You change watches before going to bed?”
“Yes. Sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night and want to know what time it is. This one has a very bright dial.”
Looking at her dark nail polish, he wished they weren’t having this conversation. “Why do I want to know what time it is?”
“Yes.” She was smiling at him. Not with him— *at* him. A moment ago things were sexy. Now they were funny. He was hoping a quick right answer would make things sexy again.
“I don’t know. To see how much more time I have left to sleep.”
Her smile grew to the size of a frisbee. “I like you.”
The gravity he was used to had disappeared altogether from the room. He was drifting in her outer space and didn’t know how to maneuver in it. “Is that good?” — Jonathan Carroll
You never wear a wristwatch, do you?"
“No. If I wear one I look at it all the time. Then I feel like a slave to it.”
“But what do you do when you need to know what time it is? What if you have an appointment?”
“Time is all around if you just look closely. There are clocks in store windows, in displays, in ads, on the street. Right now start counting. At the same time start looking for a clock. If you’re in the city it’s very rare to get all the way to thirty before you can find what time it is. Jewelry store windows, appliance stores….”
“If you carry a cellphone there’s a clock on in too.”
“But you’re being too practical. Of course it’s on your cellphone, but I’d rather do a little search for the time, you know, pay more attention to my surroundings and find it that way. — Jonathan Carroll