Word count 200
We looked forward to holidays. Both of us in such busy, organised jobs, depending on schedules, everything timed to the last second, depending on mobiles and smart watches to ensure we were where we should be on time.
Trying to check in, I was annoyed that the receptionist was wasting time with a couple of local elderly tramps. I tutted, glaring at my watch.
“Oh, excuse me, Sir, I thought you were on holiday. I didn’t realise time was so important. I will, of course, see to your needs before continuing with the proprietors of the hotel” the girl snarled.
The old woman raised a hand, pointing at my watch, muttering.
After that my watch began misbehaving. Morning alarm calls didn’t arrive. Newspapers had the wrong date. On walks, clocks in the town showed different times, not just by minutes but by hours.
Standing outside the airport I was gripped with terrible stomach pains and had to rush off to the restroom. When I staggered out, Tony was sitting on a bench with our luggage around him, his head in his hands.
“What?” I blurted.
“Look at the clock. We missed it.”
I flopped down beside him, starting to cry.