In the middle of the town stood a tall clock tower.

But the clock had no hands.

People walked by every day. They looked up, they shrugged, and kept moving. The sun told them if it was day or night. But they never knew if it was early or late. If the day was just beginning or almost gone.

So everything became “someday.”

Someday I’ll fix the roof.
Someday I’ll open the shop.
Someday I’ll write the book.

With no hands on the clock, there was no reason to hurry. No reason to finish. No reason to begin.

The town didn’t collapse. It just stayed the same. Year after year.

Most of us live with a clock like that. We wait for the right moment. We tell ourselves there’s time. But without markers, deadlines, rituals, promises. Time slips away unnoticed.

You don’t need more hours. You need hands on the clock.

A deadline.
A meeting on the calendar.
A friend who asks, “Did you do it yet?”

That’s what turns someday into today.

So where’s your clock with no hands?
And what will you put on it?

~ aq