When I got to the Oly bus-station to catch a train to Stusta for dinner and possibly a foam party, the first thing I noticed was the clock. I had lost an hour.

Today’s Easter, of course, but what does that have to do with it? I did not realise, till much later, that we had only twenty-three hours today. What did I do in that missing hour?

I might have been reading another novel by G.K.Chesterton, a gentleman who makes me feel I’m writing in the wrong era, or I might have been flying across some oceans en route to another land and when I land there, I know I will not be jetlagged for I never am.

Perhaps I was working hard at some project or presentation, eking a bright future for myself. Then again, I could have been in bed with the one I love, and we are smiling in ways we never do in real life.

I think I was dreaming in that lost hour.

There are better ways to be deprived sixty minutes, but I would not want any other.

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Copyright © 2002 Kenny Mah Ying Fye.