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Blackwood, Algernon, 1869-1951

"The Extra Day"

If only he could have landed with a single curve among the
flower-beds, as the robin did! Besides, he would feel hungry, and a
worm...!
The warmth of the bed crept upwards towards his eyes; the eyelids
dropped of their own accord; his weight sank slowly downwards; the
pillow was smooth as cream. He remembered Judy saying once that, if a
war came, she would go out and "soothe pillows." A pillow was, indeed,
a very soothing thing. His head sank backwards into a mass of feathery
sensations like a flock of dreams. He drew a long, deep breath. He
began to forget a number of things, and to remember a number of other
things. They mingled together, they became indistinguishable. What
were they? He could make a selection--choose those he liked best, and
leave the others--couldn't he? Why not, indeed? Why not?
One was that the clocks had stopped for twenty-four hours and that an
extra, unused day was dawning; another, that To-day was Sunday. He
could make his choice. Yet all days, surely, were unused till they
came! True; but clocks decreed and regulated their length. _This_
Extra Day, having been overlooked long ago, was beyond the reach of
measuring clocks.


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