Continuing in my promise to my oldest daughter, this is a poetic retelling of The Twilight Zone, Season 2, Episode 7):

Nick of Time
by Michael Romani

Traveling somewhere without exact precision
On the outskirts of the twilight dimension
Where a young couple breaks down and is towed
As the telling of their tale begins to unfold

With nothing to do but grab lunch and talk
Hand in hand, the begin to take a walk
Mutually entwined in saving each other's life
He feels very blessed that she is his wife

Slow dancing to a jukebox filled with memory
A happy couple joined together forms a family
When suddenly at their table is a mystic seer
Off just beyond table edge as he pulls her near

Two young honeymooners filled with curiosity
In route to New York City but stuck without pity
He drops his coin in the slot to ask his question
Perhaps, he should have do so with more hesitation

The place is here and the time is close to now
The when and the where that would change somehow
For a penny to look into events yet to come
Questions were answered as they would and then some

Questions ride the penny allowing the subject to be asked
Each of these bringing the man close to his task
Decided in his favor and always apparently on his side
He was filled with polished swagger and bit of pride

Talismans full of luck are stuck on his key chain
Persistence pushed too hard causes its own strains
She is filled with a wife's love and devotion
Extremely proud of her man in his new promotion

Time to kill becomes more pennies to steadily burn
All there is and more from the seer for him to learn
The seer finally answer that something are unknown
That man feels slightly jilted and a bit thrown

The magic answers seem to say they should stay
But the man cannot help but to want to make his play
All of the answers are found to too easily fit
He begins to worry more and more than just a bit

He seeks knowledge in the cause of his superstition
And in his own mind he keeps to form and repetition
So easily finding all his evidence in things evident
Believing his blessings all around are quite provident

Back they go to the café for more and more of the seer
The man is quite trouble by others sitting there
Faith in that particular gizmo holds its sway
As he stresses himself and allows only it to say

Upset in a method of madness, truth sweeps in generality
The loving couple fray beginning to lose conviviality
She sees him as desperate for answers he's ready to find
And becomes less than convince he's not losing his mind

The challenge is raised for her to ask the questions
And while she agrees, she does so with much reservation
So much of perspective it seems depends on point of view
Which can be overly scary especially when it is true

Are you or fate the master that fixes your strands of life
This is the overwhelming question perplexing his wife
Each of us is, to her, the captain of our own soul
It is not something that is dependent on a dice roll

In her tears she wants them to create their own magic
Anything falling sort of that is something too tragic
He falls sad that he has made her start to cry
Together they hope and together form their own reply

There in the counterbalance to dread and simple fear
Slaves to the machine are always destined to stay there
While others still decide to make and pave their own way
Taking charge of their own lives on that magic day

(c)  June 12, 2019  Michael Romani
All Rights Reserved