nowedgieshere

The sun had already begun dipping below the horizon as Rebecca made her way through the park. She usually tries her best to be back in her apartment before dark, but on her way home she had stumbled upon an opportunity that was just too good to pass up. Not breaking stride, she spun around and looked behind, chuckling as she could still make out the rough shape of her victim in the distance. Little Becky Lou was her favorite plaything growing up. A classic nerd by every definition, Becky Lou spent much of high school in various states of embarrassment, whether that was with stretched underwear from atomic wedgies or soaking hair from a morning swirly. It had clearly been long enough since graduation that she was letting her guard down, as Rebecca found her walking alone through the parking, eyes glued to her phone. It was almost too easy. Rebecca swooped in behind her and snatched the phone right out of her hand. The shocked Becky let out a loud gasp, and her face quickly turned

How long is an hour? No, seriously, how long is an hour? Think about it, because I don’t think anyone ever really does. Think about it really hard and consider everything. Of course, the obvious answer is that an hour is 60 minutes, or 3600 seconds, or, if you want to get fancy, 3.6 million milliseconds. Nobody can really count out individual milliseconds, though, nor can they really estimate a minute, so that 3600 seconds is the only one that matters. Count out a second in your head. Think about that timespan. Now imagine 3600 of them, all in a row. That’s an hour. But nobody actually counts out all the seconds. That would drive you insane. When I was little, I used to try to do that. I always lost track around the 250 mark, and once you’re lost, there’s no point in carrying on. Even if you could keep track, sitting there for an hour and counting out the seconds is maddening. What really matters is how those seconds slipping by feel to you. That’s the other answer. Going beyond the