Seventeen Minutes

Nineteen minutes. That’s all the time left before she had to leave for her eight hour shift at the clinic. Nineteen minutes. She knew she would come home exhausted after the late shift only to go to sleep, get up early, and do the early shift in the morning. What did her coworker call it? Clopen. The close, open. Her next bit of freedom would be the following evening. Damn.

Eighteen minutes. She still had to get her dinner together and pack her bag. 

She gazed at the TV, her laptop, her comforts of home. She had found a new Netflix series she was looking forward to watching. Oh well, maybe in a few days.

Seventeen minutes.

She remembered her old alarm clock, the one she had used before her phone took over that part of her daily routine. She used to hit the snooze button with a slap. If only she could hit the snooze button now and stop all clocks so she could enjoy herself for a bit. Slap. She would hit that button so fast. She closed her eyes and imagined it. 

Another glance at her watch. Seventeen minutes. Wait. Wasn’t it just seventeen minutes? Maybe she was wrong. She got up to pack her leftovers to bring with her. Fun stuff heating it up in the tiny break room. Why do leftovers taste so good at home and so terrible at work? Another one of life’s little mysteries.

Seventeen minutes. Ok, seriously. It’s still seventeen minutes? That’s completely impossible. Her watch must have stopped. Running back into the kitchen, she checked the time on the microwave, on the stove. Both said the same thing. Seventeen minutes until she had to leave for work. Did they have a power outage? No, the clocks would be blinking. She took out her cell phone with a racing heart only to see the same time. Seventeen minutes left.

She sat dazed on the couch. Ok, get it together. This makes no sense, and surely it must be time to go despite the confusion. She literally didn’t have time to figure it out; the situation would have to wait for when she got home. Grabbing her leftovers, her bag, and her keys she ran out the front door locking it behind her. She felt better already breathing in the fresh air.

In the two minute walk to her car, she planned her day and mentally made her checklist. Sitting in the seat she turned the key in the ignition. Checking her dashboard, she was glad to have gotten gas on the way home the night before. One less thing to worry about. Then she saw it. 

What the actual fuck.

Her dashboard clock matched the time of all the clocks in her house, showing she had seventeen minutes before it was time to leave. She felt the blood drain from her face, felt her heart start to race, felt tingling in her fingertips. She was losing her mind. She had to be. There was no other explanation for this.

What should she do? Go to work? Pray this wrinkle in time straightens out while she makes the commute? Pretend nothing is wrong as she greets her coworkers? Hi, how are you? Great, you? Never better.

She pulled out of the apartment parking lot turning on the blinker by sheer habit. It was always a nightmare to merge into traffic every morning, the cars speeding out of control. Why was everyone in a rush? They couldn’t wait to get to work? Not this morning. No cars on the road. None. She stopped in the middle of the highway and put her car in park.

Should she call someone? Who would she call and for what reason? To ask for help? Maybe. She reached for her cell phone and scrolled through her contacts. How would she explain this SOS call? She stopped scrolling at her college roommate’s name. They hadn’t seen each other since graduation, but she was the type of friend she could call out of the blue. They had busted each other’s chops all the time in school, teasing each other good naturedly. She would be the perfect person to reach out to. Maybe test the water to see if this was mass hysteria or her own madness she had slipped into. Yes, she decided, she should call her.

Straight to voicemail. Of course. Why would anything go smoothly right now? “Hey it’s me. I’ve entered another dimension and need you. Call me back.” She laughed. That was a typical random message she would have left back in the day. She waited breathlessly for the return call. After a while she restarted her car for no apparent reason since the world seemed to cease and desist. 

The phone would ring any minute, she reassured herself. In fact, they would have the biggest laugh over this. Maybe, just maybe, this was a carefully rigged plan by her friend. Was it possible she was in town unexpectedly and set up this elaborate prank? Yes, it’s possible. It makes sense actually. Sneaking into her apartment, messing with the clocks, she could picture that. Remembering when they lived together she had given her a spare key on the off chance there was some kind of emergency back home. She began to relax. The puzzle pieces were falling into place. Great prank. She got her good. The wheels started turning on how she would return the favor with something outrageous, something to top this. 

She was starting to feel excited about getting to work to put this whole ordeal behind her. Pulling into the parking lot she gasped. No cars in the lot. No lights shining through the windows. She felt tears spring to her eyes unexpectedly and with a flash of annoyance she brushed them aside roughly. Forget this. I’m done. She drove at top speed all the way back to her apartment, let herself in and threw her bags on the couch. She didn’t want to, felt sick at the thought, dreaded the outcome but had to do it. She checked the clock. It hadn’t changed. Not at all. Still seventeen minutes before she was due to leave for work.

I’m ill. I’m obviously ill. Nervous breakdown maybe. Work has been stressful. Personal life overly dramatic. She snapped. Finally snapped.

Going into the bedroom she got under her blankets and closed her eyes. She would sleep it off. Maybe she has a fever. Maybe she needs the hospital. Maybe she needs a drink.

She fell asleep.

***

Sitting at her desk on Friday she felt groggy, slightly disoriented. She yawned for the millionth time trying to shake the cobwebs out of her head. Were these extra shifts worth it? Yet another clopen, the exhausting close, open of the endless shifts that seemed to blur together in her mind. Her paycheck reflected her hours of extra work but then again so did her mental health. She was shot.

A weird sensation floated through her, kind of like a déjà vu but not quite. She couldn’t put her finger on it. She felt anxious to wrap up the day and finally enjoy some time off.  Although having no plans for the weekend, it would be a wonderful break in the routine. Freedom and time off were what she was desperately craving. Again that weird feeling came over her giving her slight chills. What was her problem? She checked the time, twenty minutes until quitting time. She can do that. No problem. Her mind wandered to getting home to her apartment, warming up the leftovers to enjoy on the couch while finally watching that new Netflix series she was excited about. Weird, she didn’t remember seeing that bag of leftovers that morning when she packed her lunch. It had to be there, she reassured herself. Food doesn’t just disappear. She smiled to herself in anticipation of the meal. Maybe she would indulge in a glass of wine with her dinner. Why not. She earned it. 

Glancing back at the clock she was already packing her bag to go. Eighteen minutes. One more minute she thought with a panic, confusion. One more minute until seventeen minutes. She was nauseous, sweating. Closing her eyes, she hoped no one would glance in her direction. Seventeen minutes, seventeen minutes. Stop it, she reprimanded herself silently. You are losing your mind. Get a grip and get out of here for some R and R. That’s the only goal right now. Breathe in, five, four, three, two, one.  Breathe out, five, four, three, two, one. Breathe in, five, four, three, two, one. Breathe out, five, four, three, two, one. The terror passed. She opened her eyes, glancing at the clock with fear. Sixteen minutes. She felt better.

Driving home from work she cursed the traffic. Why was it always so congested on this highway? Whatever. Turning up the music she sang along, belting out the lyrics knowing she was horribly off key, didn’t know half the words but didn’t care. Life was good, she felt great, not a care in the world. She smiled.

The buzzing of her cell phone came through the dashboard interrupting her singalong. She smiled when she recognized the number of her old college roommate. It had been way too long, she realized, since one of their hilarious conversations. Pressing the button on her steering wheel she called out “Hey there girl. Good timing. I’m just driving home and ready to start the weekend.”

“So, you’re back?”

“Back? Back from where?”

“The other dimension. That was great, still don’t know how you did it.  Those special effects, that weird background noise. It was so creepy you actually gave me goosebumps.”