Time

Wax stood over Shoe and sighed; they'd passed right out with the edge of the laundry basket in one hand and the next of their bass in the other. "There are never enough hours in the day," Wax whispered, reaching over. An observer might've guessed that Wax was about to stroke Shoe's face, but the hand stroked the face of a nearby alarm clock instead; the arms spun in a little cloud of blue and grey green sparkles. Wax stopped the rewind when three hours had been commanded to repeat, then placed a hand over Shoe's heart for a second. "I'll have to take three hours from someone else, you know," Wax whispered. "That's the way faerie time magic works - tricksy and ridiculously perfect. I'll have to pick a person who deserves a mostly sleepless night." Wax laughed and stood to turn off the light in the bedroom. "That'll take about a nanosecond, of course."