Bloomsday almost missed it. Immersed in systems analysis, situational awareness, pattern recognition, and the constitutional rights of the least among us, he simply lost track of time.
A bailiff taps him on the shoulder. "Check the clock, Bloomsday."
The big, groaning analog clock that churns relentlessly over the doorway to the courtroom reads ten after one. He pats himself down for his phone and finds the notable sequence of ones flashing for a second. Well, that came and went quickly.
Bloomsday thinks back to those pre-millennium halcyon days, noting the dull panic of the media. Perhaps future historians will see it this way: the twentieth century did not end when the nines turned to zeroes. It did not end on 9-11. It did not end with the corrupt swindle of the Bush Years. It did not end with the inauguration of Barack Obama. It did not end with a tsunami or earthquake or flood.
Perhaps the twentieth century, and all the horrific stupidity it represents, and which stuck around uninvited for an extra decade, finally ended yesterday when that notable flash of ones came and went. We turn the page.
"Judge, how about credit for time served?"