Stop the time

When I was a child, my mornings were with my grandparents.
Every day, except Sunday.

Once, I sat on the green recliner under the clock.
The clock was in a corner of the the room.
In the dining room there was a big table with its chairs and at 12.30 we met there,
surrounded by the good smell of food that my grandma used to serve.

Soft textile under my knees and large seams pale green, I remember
sun is shining outside
I can see a glimmer of light coming in through the door.

Stop and look.
The big clock, one hand that moves
slowly
tic tac.
Motionless,
If I look at the hands,
If I stay there observing life in its eye
then, I can stop Time.

My thought
that day I sat on the pale green recliner we call ottomana
All this time we live
where is it?

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