Things That Remind Me of Each Other

The big, silent, invisible clock was moving along as usual. But it had forgotten all about me. Tonight it was looking for someone else. Its arms and levers and steel springs were wound up and poised in search of some other person in the same blind, impersonal way it had been reaching for me on the night before. And it had missed me, somehow. This time. But I had no doubt it would get around to me again. Inevitably. Soon.

Kenneth FearingThe Big Clock

Helfer and Baker, Justice Inc.