Rufus Porter’s clock was pretty much a normal clock.
I mean, it told the time.
That is, it told time what time it was. Yes, indeed, Rufus Porter’s clock was actually a mystical control panel for time itself.
“That explains why the world was thrown into violent existential mayhem everytime daylight savings came around,” said an otherwise unassuming Rufus, while we chatted on his porch as summer sweltered around us.
Drops of condensation poured off of our lemonade glasses almost as much as on our faces.