Three Minutes Hate

9:01

There was a strange silence that filled the air on that Tuesday morning. A grave silence which hovered over the nearly ripe mangoes on display under the shelter of passing shadows and waterproof makeshift roofs. The odour of the living was seldom sensed compared to that of the thawing fish, and hanging cow of the market stall opposite the monument that was the local post office. All around the vicinity of the everyday grind was felt, was felt this morning what it was to contemplate the inexpressible. Yes some sensed it, others well they just paid dues by keeping their mouth shut.

9:04

It seemed as if this silence could go on forever, or at least for the duration of the day, that was until the release of monoxide - from what seemed like a strangled whale -passed from the behind of a food filled lorry. But even that noise which made regular everyday patterns couldn’t shake the locals from their solemnity that morning, but when a passenger perhaps a foreigner to the area was asked the time, she pointed to the clock tower, and heads were raised to notice that the clock had stopped.

Leyman