In lower Manhattan, on the corner of Broadway and John Street, there was for many years a large public clock. I thought of it as the city’s worst timekeeping device. It wasn’t merely broken: that would be far too mundane. Twice a year, when most clocks changed to reflect the shift from daylight savings time, this clock would continue, one hour off. This state of affairs would continue for four or five months, when finally somebody would adjust it–just in time for it to be out of sync again a few weeks later.
Also, nobody ever seemed to replace its bulbs, so the (wrong) time that it was offering gradually became more implicit. Like here:
That picture was taken at 4:54 pm. Unless it was 3:54 pm. Or maybe 5:54 pm.