Revitalized

Clocks in the house were all but removed I chose utter quietude over malicious ticks and tocks. Adhering to schedules was reliant on the angles of the sun, and the sandy family hourglass artifact sitting by the side of me at my station, every hour on the hour reminding, and I myself being ready to flip. This was how not to live as a farmer and still be a slave to the working of grains. The sanctity of my spinning room was also my prison for forty hours every week, and a third of my adult life. Pressing down on the pedal below to see the top half rotate and as my world turns I sometimes get approached. With significant fibers, their casual orders are mine for marching, working that spindle to the satisfaction of the customer, as was every occasion but my last one, the best one, the only one that I'll remember as special, delivering my soul from boredom. My only daughter, sweet thing, no siblings to rival with unless a naked, well tattered doll counts. She took it on adventures to the moon while I couldn't see my child, my savior expanding horizons. It was silly not to see her blowing about carefree as the wind that day without concerns over food and shelter all she desired was the deepest one of all. She was sleeping on desires with every chance to dream for her best friend a modest cape for him to fly. Deep inside I knew her spirits and that doll would ride the same breeze but I had to say no for the silk was not mine. The customer was always right until the next day when I stepped out to the corner store for the bite of a sour apple, returning to an open door the hourglass was broken and my spindle bare. The world had stopped spinning, time had stopped existing… so long comfortable rut. Mortified for a brevity, just when I thought worlds couldn't change, mine had with the crashing of an antique. The glass littered beach on the floor was proof of that. The spindle was stripped of its importance and all of a sudden it hit me fast, so fast I smiled. My daughter was no devil and yet she was the culprit stealing my heart before and a cape now but it was okay, just this once, to have a family legacy mocked for the prosperity of a child's imagination. Seeing them fly in the backyard I dripped gentle waves from tear ducts upon that glass scattered beach secretly grateful, values in my life were restored.