The Ratio, the Morning, the Night
It was hot. The sun that shined on my back did hurt. On my watch, the hour hand pointed at 2, and the minute hand pointed at 6. It was 2:30 in the afternoon. Even though everything was bright and beautiful, I didn't feel a thing. The only image in my mind was her back and the truth. It was not the sun that hurt my back. It was the truth that ate away my heart. I walked away, 2:30 p.m.
The writing "2:30" is sitting there nicely on a sheet of white paper in front of me. 2 is the distance between her and a thing. 30 is the distance between her and me. 2:30, what a nice ratio. 2:30, that is so absolute and strict. Numbers are like that. Mathematics is like that. Truth is like that. I sit here. My mind is as blank as the white paper, but the mark "2:30" stays in my thought. It will not be gone. What a ratio, 2:30.