Hesitantly, reluctantly, Helen slipped out of a
slim, tight-waisted leotard and stood naked in the moonlight before me.
Somewhere a clock chimed three. An owl hooted in the nearby copse. No wind
stirred the casement window as she stood in the pale, translucent light on the
Persian carpet .A minute passed – then another. Then another minute. Then
- another minute passed.
Then another minute passed and another A further minute passed quickly followed
by another minute when suddenly -a
different minute passed followed by another different minute and another and yet
another further different minute. A minute passed. I glanced at my watch. It was
a minute past. This was it! A minute passed. After a moment, another
minute passed. I waited a minute, while a minute passed quickly past and
then a minute past which seemed to last an hour, but was only a minute, - passed.
That was “A Minute Passed/Past” by John
Dull-Boring. You can hear episode nine of “A Minute Passed/Past” tomorrow
night at a minute past.
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