What Time Is It?
I need a watch.
For a few years now, I’ve been using my cellular telephone to tell the time, much like our ancestors used the sun and… shadows. This is usually a perfectly acceptable manner of time telling. My hands and wrists are unadorned with any jewelry — rings or bracelets (or whatever the masculine word for “bracelets” is… if that’s possible… “gauntlets,” perhaps?), and at some point in my life, a watch started feeling dangerously close to such a too-flashy-for-me accessory.
