9:45 AM

9:45 AM.
Why was it always this exact time?
I wondered the room, avoiding the dog frozen in mid-leap. I suppose that it could be worse. At least at this point in the day, I was normally alone. It would be difficult to explain how I had gone from one area of the room to another to those who were not affected by the time blip.
Moving to the window, I stared out at the frozen scene. There was the mail carrier across the street. Little Jayne Millow was playing catch with her brother, the ball hanging just a foot away from her outstretched hand.
Scanning the familiar image, I tried to find any movement. The flicker of a bird's wing, or perhaps a sneeze.
Anything to show I wasn't alone.
But as always, nothing moved.
Sighing, I turned away from the window. I didn't bother to look at my watch as I walked out of the room. This anomaly usually lasted at least five minutes, but it wasn't constant. The longest I had been trapped in time was thirty minutes. I had stopped fretting over the time outside of time months ago.
Entering the kitchen, I sat at the table and picked up a glass. As I lifted it, I watched the liquid within remain a solid block.
That was one of the disadvantages of this. Nothing else seemed to be affected like I was. If I could just do something other then wander about during this, it wouldn't be so maddening.
Knock knock.
Jerking my head toward the window, I stared rigidly at the scene outside. It was strange how long it took for my mind to accept the boy's presence. As I fumbled to my feet, the boy grinned and waved. Reaching the window, I stared at the boy.
I recognized him now. Theo Dawson, the nine year old from a couple houses down.
Lifting my hand, I gave a slow wave.
Grin widening, he held up a paper.
Want to come outside tomorrow?
Immediately, I nodded. Though he was young, to have someone to wait with during this timeless moment was a comforting thought.
And just maybe, we might be able to figure out why this had started happening at the beginning of the year.