Keeping the watch is an old affliction of the men in the Haught family. My Grandfather, Ed, used to sit in his chair in the dark and smoke cigarettes into the early hours of the morning. It is a wonder that he did not burn that old house down. Perhaps, it would have been better if he had. My Dad used to sit up late and now me. I sit and try to gather my thoughts. It is as though I am trying to knit a sweater out of them. Perhaps, I am waiting for inspiration, or revelation or, perhaps, a visitation. There is something about an old house in the quiet of midnight and the sound of a heirloom mantle clock ticking. In my mind, I can hear my grandfathers clocks ticking. I can see the painted wooden pendulum of his wall clock swinging and I recognize the chime. I need to start a collection of antique clocks to keep the watch with me.
Posted on: Sat, 13 Dec 2014 05:55:50 +0000