Miniature Worlds

I have always loved the idea of miniature worlds: a whole community of sea creatures living almost invisibly in a rock pool, an army of ants building their intricate world and feeding their queen, beehives - a world of honeyed hexagons, the insects that live their whole lives in the bark of one tree.

This inevitably informed my early reading material: The Borrowers by Mary Norton - a family of tiny people living in the walls of an ordinary house; CS Lewis' Chronicles of Narnia, where a whole new world is discovered behind a wardrobe; and Clive Barker's Weaveworld, the fantastical tale which takes place entirely inside a carpet.

What if we are all just small cogs in our own world, which is in turn just a small part of an even bigger world.

And what if the minutae of our day to day existence - our belongings, clothes, everyday items - are themselves entire worlds which support the smooth-running of our lives, as long as they are fit-for-purpose and maintained.

Crazy? Maybe, but an interesting thought.

Watchworld

7am.

A voice rang out in the work chamber as an alarm sounded.

"Are all the posts manned? ROLECALL PLEASE!"

"All posts fully manned Sir."

"Power rating. Fully charged."

"Alarm test completed and working"

"Date cross-checked with secondary device"

"Bluetooth connected"

"Stepcount reset at zero"

"Heartrate monitor at 65, O2 sats 100%"

"GPS enabled and location verified."

"Impact warning on."

The captain nodded. "Very good. Everyone have a good shift. Emergency drill and update as usual at 2am."

A collective, "Yes Sir!" resounded around the work chamber as operators returned their attention to their duties.

It was a difficult job. The shifts were long - 18hrs - and the days were unpredictable. The operators worked tirelessly, without complaint, committed to the greater good, to the essential art of time-keeping.

The power source must be continually monitored and kept in sync with the escapement - essential for continuation and accuracy.

The wheels of the gear train and its intricate interlocking cogs regularly oiled, with just the right amount of lubricant, and anxiously checked in triplicate, every hour, in order to ensure the pinpoint accuracy of its complex revolutions and rotations.

The movement of weights and springs are recorded in minute detail; tiny adjustments made as and when needed; and not a speck of dust is allowed to enter the chamber.

All of this, every day. But why?

Because nobody wants to find out what will happen if time is allowed to stop.