I was waiting for the traffic light to change,
watching passing cars on the opposite side of the avenue.
“time is flying”, I sighed, and turned the music on.
“When the music’s over…”, the radio played.
“you’re always complaining about the time! it is barely moving for me, though”,
my oldest daughter replied.
(chewing gum and peeking into her iPhone)
“it is because you don’t appreciate it”, I said.
“see, Monday was yesterday, now it is Friday afternoon”.
(the hypocritical pinch, came afterwards in the evening, after I closed the prayer book)