Timeframe

Veronica opened her eyes and stared at the digital clock on her bedside table. Her forehead wrinkled. She rubbed her eyelids and looked again.

"Now how did I fall asleep for a whole hour? I swear I only blinked!"

But the clock didn't lie: a mere moment before it had read 9:00 in the morning, and now it told her it was 10:00. Luckily it was Saturday, so it hardly mattered much to her if she'd had an extra nap. Not like I'll be late for anything. But I'm sure I wasn't asleep.

She shook her head as she walked down the hallway past framed photos of smiling grandkids and her college degree.

Sunday morning, Veronica woke up at 7 and prepared breakfast as usual. She went out to eat on the back patio, watching the sun rising over the misty hillside.

It was 8:45 by the time she stretched her legs and brought her mug and bowl back inside to wash. As the minutes ticked by, she found herself staring at the digital clock on her wall. Tension glued her to her seat at the kitchen table.

When it turned from 8:59 to 9:00 uneventfully, she relaxed, half laughing at her fears. Then, when it should have been 9:01, it suddenly became 11:00. She let out a shriek. Her first instinct was to grab her phone and check the time. It matched.

Veronica jumped up, running to see the clock in her bedroom. All the timepieces in the house read the same. Where had two hours gone?

"They vanished!"

She called her best friend Kelsey and told her about it with a shaking voice.

"But Veronica." Kelsey sounded puzzled. "It's not eleven. It's only a quarter past nine. How are you seeing time two hours ahead? We live in the same town."

"It's true! I'm losing time. Yesterday I lost an hour, and now it's two hours!"

"Maybe you should see a doctor, hon. I'm sure they could help you."

"Oh, now you think I'm crazy. This is true, I'm telling you."

Veronica failed to convince Kelsey. She remained sitting after her friend hung up, staring at the phone. It's impossible! Time can't just disappear!

But disappear it did…for Veronica. On Monday, she lost three hours of the day as her clock jumped from 9:00 to 12 noon.

How am I supposed to go out into the world and act like nothing's wrong when I'm losing time? What's going on?

She didn't know what to do. On Tuesday, she stayed in bed, huddled under the covers, watching her clock send her day hurtling into the afternoon in a split second. Her heart raced. She pictured her life quickly subtracting down to nothing at all.

Is this how people die? Help! I don't want to disappear like the sand in an hourglass!

She spent the night awake and trembling, afraid to fall asleep lest more time disappear. Nightmares lurked in the shadows as if waiting to consume her existence.

Wednesday morning at 8:00, there was a knock at Veronica's door. A little boy stood there with a note.

"This is from Father Time," he announced.

"What! It's about time!" She snatched it from him.

"Yes, that's what it's about."

She tore it open and read:

Dear Veronica,

I am quite sorry for the confusion surrounding the number of hours in your day. My youngest assistant has been making errors in the counting of Time. Rest assured that any discrepancies have been accounted for and will be corrected forthwith.

In order to make up for the inconvenience, we have refunded you the ten hours you lost since Saturday. Please find them enclosed, beginning at 9:00 AM. Feel free to use them as you wish.

Again, I apologize for the situation. Take care and be well.

Sincerely,
Father Time.

"Oh, glory be!" Veronica hugged the letter to her chest. "I'm not crazy, and I'm not dying! But whatever am I supposed to do with ten extra hours today?"

The first thing she did after breakfast was to get some much-needed rest. When Veronica went to bed, it was 9:00. When she woke up, it was still 9:00. Apparently the ten free hours were all labeled as nine in the morning.

She shook her head and laughed. Now I can catch up on my yardwork. Thank you, Father Time.

Word Count: 738.