Frankie said, “Time goes slower when the clock stops.”
I had overdosed on Oreos an hour before
so I wasn’t at my best.
It took me five minutes to say, “What was that?”
“Time goes slower when the clock stops.”
“I thought that was it,” I said. “What does that mean?”
Frank didn’t respond for a while. “Damned if I know.”

We returned to the silence. I could use another cookie.
“Where do you go when the speakers turn off?” I said.
He turned to me. “I just go to the land of make-bereaved.
Where I remember the nearly-departed.”
“That’s… heart-breaking,” I said, “You lose anyone recently?”
“My uncle,” he replied, looking out the window.
“I got twenty thousand from him.”
“You been drinking with that?”
“I been drinking with that.”
“All right,” I said.

He handed me a cookie.
It was good.
“I’m sorry about your uncle,” I offered.
“Barely knew him,” said he.
“Oh.”