the watch keeper’s watches keep time
but whose time are they watching? not ours
his clock only goes from zero to one
it’s been a very long time since his clock struck zero
still, he knows exactly what time it is
not yet one!
our own clocks have in the meantime passed through
many hours, generations, all of history (most of which we had forgotten anyway)
billions of years and billions of memories
billions of lives and billions of hopes
tick tick tick
the hourglass trembles, as if a slight breeze passed through this dusty basement
(which lies uncountable levels below the surface, in peace and quiet)
a grain of sand drops
the watch keeper looks up
in his eyes there only seems to be emptiness
he caresses the grain of sand as it falls
birth and death happen as he reaches for the moment
not distracted by the impact, the grain of sand bounces off his hand
and continues on its path
