Captain Mom’s Log: Week 8: Day 53
Time has slowed. Molasses Minutes stretch and I acutely remember what it was like being a child. The top three slowest moments of my life resurface. And linger. The Molasses Minutes of 1986 Standing in the Eternal Line at the Post Office. The rope that separates customers is blue and soft. Velvet, like my favorite fancy red dress that I can only wear on Christmas. I hope to stop growing so I can wear it every year. Except I also want to keep growing so I can be taller than Mom. "Stop playing with the rope," Mom fusses. It clangs when I give it a push. The vibration shoots up the rope to the copper metal clip that holds the rope to the metal pole. Clang. "Stop it." Mom looks around at the other customers. "How much longer?" I ask. "Five minutes," she says. "At most ten." I look at the giant clock on the wall. It has already been ten minutes. I watch the red second hand pass the 8. Two, three, four, five. The 9....