Chapter 1

It was exactly noon as the front door of his house opened into a cloudy summer afternoon. The sun was hidden behind its clouds, but its glow was still visible, hovering directly over the house. There was no sunrise this morning, it seemed as if one moment it was night, and the next, day. The hours had been passing this was for quite some time now, slipping past him as if they were trying not to be seen. They had become successful in their efforts lately, and multiplying into days, sometimes years. He had noticed their devious act from the beginning, taking note of how time had become mischievous, no longer acting “on our side”. Time had become the enemy, and as his life went on, time began to hurt him. He could no longer act, no longer work, no longer communicate, no longer travel, no longer live. And this troubled him. He remembered the last time that he had regarded time as nothing more than hands on a clock, or numbers on his watch. That was when he was young, and only had worries for what he was to eat that night, or who he would spend his days playing with. Now time fought against his every will to move forward, to a more fulfilling life, or a life at all. He had finally realized that time moved at an alarming rate, and years were no longer a measure of a “a while” or a “long time”. A year was a period for him in which he could reflect on all the things he should have done. All the places he could have traveled, all the experiences he could have lived. This was sadly not the case though, because he spent his time in this house, leaving to work, or at least take himself to that place where he was supposed to be performing labor. Or buy necessities, which were not necessary at all anymore. This cycle went on for a number of years, but then again, it could have only been a few days. Time is tricky to the mind, we often are left confused at the concept of time, and then waste more of it, only trying to figure out what we were originally baffled by. And so he understood, on the cloudy summer day, that his life must be brought to a close, not by death, but by the birthing of a new life, one not controlled by time.