If my house could speak it would voice its confusion to the people,
and the objects that live within its four walls would languish over the sudden change in routine.
Showers would sit solemnly and ponder their precipitous drop in popularity.
Vintage bottles of wine would gasp as their last precious drops empty from their body and they are filled with air.
Cars would howl to be taken out for a run onto empty expressways, dreaming of right feet pressing into their pedal.
Screens would stare back at us with bags under their sullen eyes wondering if they will ever get a chance to rest.
But not all are desperate in the house.
Mixing bowls and whisks rejoice as they are pulled gleefully from their hearth.
Gardens take in the spring sunlight and stretch their arms into the sky appreciative of the diligence they are receiving.
Couches take pride in their significance, eager to cuddle up with the ones that have carved out a space on their cushions.
Pages of long lost books answer reluctantly like orphans as they are dusted off and cracked open, forgetting what it felt like to be held with such care.
And our alarm clocks lay patiently on our nightstands,
sound asleep dreaming lucidly about a peculiar world,
where the rules have been changed,
where time is not used,
yet it’s not wasted either.
Where its people have been forced to alter their routines,
where they suddenly have nowhere to be
and little to do.
Where their work is no longer needed.
Where my work is no longer needed.
Our alarm clocks watch gravely from afar,
as we stir at the same time every morning,
and lay spiritless in our beds,
staring up at the ceiling for hours on end,
and sink further into our covers
with every minute that passes.
They are happy to have company,
but wonder if all that time spent in bed is doing us any good.
“The more time I spend in bed, the less time I spend awake”, they overhear us whisper to no one in particular.
Still, our alarm clocks sit fervently on our nightstands,
believing the day will come,
when the gift they share with the world is valued again,
that the people will rise in earnest with their call,
and that their work will be underappreciated no more.
