Eight minutes. 480 seconds. Multiply it by 180 and you have a day.
The commercial-break allotment on primetime tv. Buy our sneakers, buy our booze, buy, buy, buy.
An eight-minute catnap. Snooze away the heartbreak and the shame.
Eight minutes. The time it takes a clock to turn from 17:52 to 18:00. Tick tock, tick tock, nothing changes.
Eight minutes. An intense abdominal workout. Build that core, stack that six-pack, be gorgeous, be healthy, no matter how ugly the world.
Eight minutes. I read a chapter of a novel. Did I learn anything?
Eight minutes. The interval between closing my book and falling asleep. The world shuts down for eight hours.
Eight minutes. Nothing – a dashed lunch, a trip to the newsagent, a languorously smoked cigarette.
Eight minutes to extinguish the breath of a tall, strapping innocent man. Eight minutes that have set the world alight. Eight minutes the likes of which should never occur again.
Ever.
Ever.
Ever.
Ever.
Ever.
Ever.
Ever.
Ever.
