Threadless : A growing novel

"It happened at 3:12 PM. Then again at 3:12 PM."

Rin was in class when it happened.

He wasn't listening to the lecture — something about post-war poetry and the unreliable narrator. He had heard the same speech last week. Maybe last year. It blurred.

He looked out the window.

Bird. Cloud. Dog with red leash.

Then:

Bird. Cloud. Dog with red leash.

Again.

Same movement. Same rhythm.

He blinked, hard. Rubbed his temple.

Then checked the time.

3:12 PM.

The second hand jumped backward.

Ticked the same second again.

"Rin?"

He turned.

Mr. Dael stood at the board. "Did you catch that line?"

Rin stared. "What line?"

The teacher smiled.

"The past always returns wearing new shoes."

The class laughed like it was a joke they'd heard before.

Rin didn't.

He'd heard it too — but in a dream.

Later, in the hallway, Jun waved at him. "Hey, you missed the glitch."

Rin froze. "What?"

Jun blinked. "The—uh, fire drill. I meant fire drill."

He kept walking.

But Rin stood still.

You missed the glitch.

Elsewhere, Aro sat alone, fingering the marble in her pocket.

It was warm again.

She took it out, placed it on the bench beside her.

It rolled once. Stopped.

Then, faintly, impossibly—

it rolled backward.