Leal | Time Free [hot]ze Veronica

Not with a bang, but with a hush . The hum of her apartment’s refrigerator died. The distant wail of a siren on Madison Avenue was cut mid-cry. Outside her window, a pigeon hung in the air, one wing raised, a single droplet of water from a leaky gutter frozen in mid-fall, sparkling like a diamond.

She set down the latte. She grabbed the young woman by the shoulders. The woman was heavy—not like a person, but like a marble statue bolted to the earth. Veronica grunted, digging her heels into the pavement. She pulled. One inch. Two inches. Her muscles screamed. The watch on her wrist grew cold, then hot. time freeze veronica leal

She spent what felt like hours wandering. She paused the world to read a page of a newspaper caught mid-flight from a stand. She stopped a toddler from tumbling off a park bench, gently repositioning his tiny, solid-as-stone legs back onto the seat. She walked right up to her boss, Mr. Hendricks, who was frozen mid-scowl outside his office building, and straightened his crooked tie. Not with a bang, but with a hush