The sands of time don't run in an hourglass; they wash up on a beach.
I have no idea what time it is. There's a clock right here, imbedded into the face of this machine, but I won't look at it, because I don't want to alert myself to the fact that I am well past my time for sleeping.
There's a man outside walking down the street, but he won't pick up his feet. I suppose he might have some sort of injury. It's dark out there, and the tree in front of my apartment makes the late night seem spookier than usual. He's giving off a zombie vibe. Shuff shuff shuff shuff.
The cars have stopped driving - an unusual break in the norm. It's not helping with this late night creepiness.
But I won't look at the clock. If I do, then the magic spell will break, and it will simply be another late night in Southern California.
There's a man outside walking down the street, but he won't pick up his feet. I suppose he might have some sort of injury. It's dark out there, and the tree in front of my apartment makes the late night seem spookier than usual. He's giving off a zombie vibe. Shuff shuff shuff shuff.
The cars have stopped driving - an unusual break in the norm. It's not helping with this late night creepiness.
But I won't look at the clock. If I do, then the magic spell will break, and it will simply be another late night in Southern California.