High a above a bustling zebra village stood a collosal clock. Amidst the constant hustle of hooves, a small zebra looked up and marveled at how everyone ran their lives according to its massive hands. “Who made the clock?” the little zebra asked a passing black and white blur. “Someone, long, long ago,” blurted a zebra zipping to have her mane trimmed. “Why do we follow the clock?” the little zebra continued. “If we don’t, there’d be chaos!” the long maned mare yelled back as she hurried away.
Life in the buzzing village hummed along, until one day, a horrible pinging noise echoed from inside the giant clock. Sproing! The entire town came to a stand still. The zerbras looked up and noticed in disbelief that the hands of the ancient time piece stood perfectly still. A little scared and unsure, they all slowly resumed their daily routines. Gradually, the zebras grew less busy, afraid to pack their day full of so many tasks that it would over flow. The zerbras walked more instead of ran. Without the constant overbearing clock, they couldn’t use it as an excuse to be rude. They began to have long conversations, and look up at the sky, and get lost in thought. The village became a slower place.
After many years, on a calm, cool, cloudless day, a little zebra looked up at the clock in wonder. “Who made the clock?” the little zebra asked a group gathered on a hill. “Someone, long, long ago,” explained a zebra, enjoying herself in the light of the sun. “Why don’t we fix the clock?” the little zebra continued. The mare smiled at the little zebra and said,
“If we did, there’d be chaos.”