12:04

My grandfather’s pocketwatch tells you the exact time you’ll die.

Nothing useful, like the date. Just the time. I’m going to die at 12:04 PM.

So’s my wife.

So’s my daughter. I asked her to hold it for me one day, and looked to see if the hands changed position. They stayed fixed.

My neighbour too, and the girl who makes sandwiches in the café near work.

Something’s coming, and it’s going to arrive at 12:04 PM.

We could leave town, but either that fixes the day, or there’s just nowhere to run.

I look at the clock. It’s 11:59.