You have to remember that the world was faster? By let's say, 10-15%? Everyone else thinks I'm crazy but I can tell you're not like the rest of them.
It happened a month ago, the slowdown. I woke up at dawn as I usually do. I don't know how long I laid there because I was immersed in trying to place that feeling of uneasiness. The birds. Why did their song sound so different?
Now that I think about it, I bet the water was falling out of the shower head slower. And Leon is an old boy sure, but it normally doesn't take him that long on our morning walk.
The kids on bikes on their way to school seemed to not be in a rush. I reasoned the traffic lights must be in need of repair with how long they took to change.
I'm the same speed—let me make that clear. That's why this is torture. It's like living in a giant senior center, this Earth.
No, the speed limits are unchanged. Yet still, 60 miles an hour doesn't feel like it used to. Even when I played basketball, it felt like everyone else was underwater and I could move like a jaguar among them.
Of course, I had to break up with my girlfriend. Listening to her talk at normal speed was bad enough. And my job? Quit that after the third meeting. It was either that, or blow my brains out.
I don't even go to the grocery store anymore, I can't stand all the people pushing carts and taking their time in line. If I can't kill it or catch it with my bare hands, I won't eat it.
Even the internet takes forever to load. All I need is this typewriter. They can't slow down my thoughts.