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The Mechanics Of Intuition

from Our Solitary Confinement by Sieben

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The Mechanics Of Intuition

Mark Harding had the eye; could calibrate hands to ticking seconds. He throbbed whirring cogs, felt the measure in the bar, the weight in the wheel. In the amplitude of his steady hand he knew without knowing.

Always late, he estimates his room for leeway and foreman Mackinlay’s eager eye averts to allot him grace, Harding’s quota always filled.

Always late, he calculates capacity for leeway. He knew his sum, and would tread a measure ‘til the horn dissolved in a whistle.

But he knew more: Immeasurables his eye could not account or scale, brittle thoughts he could not handle for fear of breaking. He let the music wash him. And so outside to her:

He longed for her arms, pined her soft warm skin, her touch a match to his kindling. And the counting could stop, and the music sink in. He longed for her arms, pined her soft warm skin, her touch a match to his kindling. And the counting could stop, and the music sink in.

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from Our Solitary Confinement, released February 2, 2017

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Sieben Sheffield, UK

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