Marked

'Twas when the hour hand of a grandfather's clock, an alarm clock, a cuckoo clock , a time clock, a wall clock, a floor clock, and all the clocks of the world had finally struck the critical midpoint of the device; the significant starting point of a new era; the unbearable aging of the young that coerced me to affront the mirror and in it, slap of the biggest reality had lingered. The day seemed familiar; an ordinary day perhaps it was. But it was my special day.

How would you define "special"? I couldn't really fathom what special is. But I have some kind of explication. Needless to say, can special be seen? Does it include beyond the extraordinary? A fast physical transformation, a heedless truth? A new plus to the age, an old ordinary facade? A surprise, but an expected one?

I'll admit I am in a state of confusion but I would gladly believe that special is something felt; something inexplicable surmounting the ordinary.