The clock facing the wall

The station clock had stopped at six. Mara held up her ticket. “We are late.” Ivo pointed to the empty track. “Then why is everyone still here?” On the bench, a porter folded a newspaper along a crease worn white. Neither traveler asked him the time. Above the ticket window hung a second clock, face turned to the wall.

The taller traveler turns the stopped hands to the hour they agree to call now. The shorter one says nothing, only glances at the second clock, face to the wall, whose opinion of the matter stays unread. They leave. Later a porter reads the visible hands and believes the station. The wall-facing clock keeps the older disagreement to itself, and the platform holds two times: one displayed, one archived.