Time Would Stop After All.[i must say, a must read in all of my works. :D short story]

Time Would Stop After All.

By: Blackrose

Abba Marie Moreno – Blackrose is my pen name ;)

 

           

            Have you ever had that moment in your life (maybe you’d had it more than once) that you wished that time would just stop? Whether it was happiness that could’ve made you wet your pants, depression that made you devour tubs of ice cream or just plain aggravation over your boss, it was a time of great desperation.

 

            And every time that situation comes up, Time wouldn’t stop.

 

And you’d feel more than ever that somehow God hated you. Eventually you’d get over it. It could’ve lasted in your favor or somehow skip it, but it did not.

 

Time is a being. He goes to work like everyone else. Yeah, I said HE. On Mondays, he’d just sit on clouds and watch over us. It was one big reality show for him. Sometimes, he’d be in animal forms—crawling among us. On Sundays, he’d go and see Him; have a little chat and so. Occasionally, he’d walk among us humans and maybe have a hotdog or so. Of all the things he loved doing, he loved sleeping the most. :]

 

“OOHH, I wish time would stop!” he’d hear this once in a while. He’d peek for just a bit, and fall back into sleep. Pity was not in his vocabulary.

 

He had no care in the world. Yeah, he had a good a life—one good immortal life.

 

 

 

 

 

“Hey, Manager, I’m taking the day off. Would you mind?”  Time asked the Boss.

 

“No problem. Just be sure to come back.” The Boss sat in his desk, smiled and went back to the line of angels that had matters to discuss.

 

 

 

 

“My, my.” It was a Wednesday, much like any Wednesday. He felt smug about himself—walking casually, a man of 28 or 30. He was going to visit Mr. Clocksworth, the owner of the Clock Shoppe in Paris. He’s been here quite a few times. He’d like to marvel at the Grandfather Clocks, the Parisian wall clocks, there was even a metronome. The tick, the tock, the movement of the pendulums, it all stunned him at awe each time.

 

“Oh, I see that you have much interest in clocks.” The elderly shopkeeper said in abrupt French.

“Yes, yes. Time is a wonderful thing you see.” He replied.

 

The shopkeeper smiled and left him alone. By five o’clock he went to the Eiffel Tower. He saw this woman in a fur coat; she had tears on her cheeks. He walked past her. He didn’t have time to spare for those who could not fix their lives.

 

            He felt a tug. The Parisian woman had held on to his coat.

 

            “Would you mind if we had a drink?” she asked him. She seemed sober but her teary eyes were evident.

 

            “Sorry, Lady, but I have no time for that.” He replied in a stern voice.

 

            “Oh come on, just one. There’s a time for everything.” She pulled on his hand as though he were a child. She looked desperate; he had no choice. He did have time anyway.

 

 

            They had a drink. She told him about what happened. Her fiancé had cancelled the wedding since he’d met a new woman. She needed a stranger whom to share her problems with, no familiarity whatsoever, and that was him. They had a few laughs and it made her feel better. She had a common face, she wasn’t extraordinary in some extravagant way but she seemed so… so…. Right.

 

            “God really is a wonderful being. How he had written the stories of our lives. How he’d chosen time to keep moving forward.” A soothing tone of relief in her voice.

 

            “Oh. How do you say so? I’ve heard a lot of people who’d give their all just to stop time. Ever seen time-machine movies?” he replied. He looked at her.

 

            “Oh, I don’t know about that. But, if time could bend into our will. We wouldn’t be as strong as we are. We can’t move on. I’ve moved on.” She said with effect and emphasis.

 

            “Good for you. I need to go now. It was nice meeting you.” He bid goodbye.

 

            “No no, it was nice, meeting YOU. Thanks a lot. I finally have my dignity back.” She smiled and they walked separate ways.

 

Normally, he was indifferent about the people he met. But when she smiled, he felt his heart skip a beat. That was odd, he thought. He had a good time. But it was different from the emotion he felt. For the first time in his existence, he could not sleep.

 

 

He went back to the Office.

 

            “Boss, what’s this feeling?” he asked.

            The Boss winked and said. “Why, that is love. You’d fallen in love, son. And all I thought now that you weren’t susceptible to that.”

 

            “Love?” he asked. He got his time card and checked out. He said goodbye to the Boss and sat beneath the stars.

 

            Love, he thought. I’ve seen these things on human movies but it doesn’t feel that way. He smiled. It was a mixed emotion of things he didn’t know. It was spectacular. She’s the most beautiful thing I have ever seen. I want to see her again. And trust me, he has seen a lot of wonderful things.

 

 

 

He’d meet her every Wednesday at the same spot where they met. They’d eat or dance or just walk. Whatever they did, they had fun. It was all so simple yet it was profound. He’d smile more often but he never forgot about his job. The Boss didn’t seem to mind, as long as he did his duties. He had the best weeks of his existence.

 

He was watching over this woman, whose name he did not bother to ask. She had gone from the groceries. It was a Sunday.

 

            A ten-wheeler truck.

 

            A driver half asleep.

 

            A boy of six or seven picking up a ball on the middle of the road.

 

            A woman with shopping bags who saw the boy.

 

            And an impulse that told her to save the young boy.

 

It all happened so fast, funny that he was responsible for that.

 

            Her last breath --- Time had stopped. Perhaps he did not have Pity in his vocabulary but I guess, it had the word Love in it.

 

 

 

This was insubordination. He touched her face. She was dying. He couldn’t go back. His job was the priority. The most rational act was for him to stop time and savor this moment.

 

            Everything froze. The seemingly endless ticking of the wound clocks have stopped. Water froze in the air as a mother had thrown some water. The city lights paused in a way that was magnificent. The unstoppable wind was stopped. It was beauty that time could only give us. It truly was an amazing sight.

 

            “What are you doing?” a little girl asked him. It was Death, his colleague.

 

            “I—I don’t know.” He stammered.

 

            “It is time.” She said.

 

            “No.” he lied to himself.

 

            “This is part of the Design. You have your job. I have mine. It is hard, I know.” Her mellifluous voice underscored the words even more.

 

            She was right. This was wrong. Death touched his shoulder. It was time.

 

He closed her eyes for about a second; this was the first time he wanted to go back to a particular moment. He wanted to go back to the first smile she had given him.

 

He opened his eyes: everything resumed. The ticking went on. Water fell on the ground. The city lights assumed disorder. The wind ran again. It was all according to the Design. He just wanted to sleep it all away.

 

 

He was going over to the Boss. While he was going there, he tried to think logically. She died a noble. It was madness for him to do such an irresponsible thing. He loved her, and if he really did, he would want her to fulfill the Purpose the Boss had given her.

 

But, if time could bend into our will. We wouldn’t be as strong as we are. We can’t move on. I’ve moved on. Her words rung inside his head. “I wasn’t strong as I thought after all.” He thought.

 

He was there at the Office.

 

            “Boss, I screw up. And I don’t know what to say.” Time said with much embarrassment.

 

            “Yes, I know.” The Boss smiled.

 

            “Different beings respond to love in different ways. And that was yours. Don’t worry about that. No damage done. It was an opportunity for you to feel it. Wonderful, is it not?” He continued.

 

            “It was—is the most wonderful feeling.” Time replied with his teary eyes.

 

            The Boss patted his head.

 

 

Time had stopped once—and it was for Love.

           

Love, the magnificent force pouring out from God.