The Maintenance of Headway

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“There’s no excuse for being early,” said Breslin.

“No, I suppose not.”

“None whatsoever.”

“No.”

“It is forbidden.”

“Yes.”

He looked at his watch, studying it intently for several long moments before returning his gaze to me.

“So now we’re both agreed there’s no excuse for being early,” he said. “Why are you early?”

“I just am,” I replied. “Sorry.”

“You’re sorry.”

“Yes.”

“You’re sorry. I’m sorry. Everybody’s sorry. Well, sorry just isn’t good enough. Sorry doesn’t stop you from being early, does it?”

I said nothing. There was no point. Breslin was quite correct. There was no excuse for being early. He gave a sigh and shook his head. “You’ll just have to stay here for a minute or two.”

And so I remained there, suspended in time, with Breslin peering at his watch every now and again, while my people sat in silence behind me. Two full minutes ticked by and nobody stirred. Then at last he let me go.

“Slow down a little, will you?” was his parting remark.

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