Tuesday, June 12, 2018

time


At the end, time moves backwards.
 Years turn to months, then months to weeks. At some point we begin to measure by days, then hours... minutes, moments, breaths, and that final measure of time, heartbeats.

An entire life distilled down to the last heart beats.
At this point, words are useless; there is only touch, feelings, yearnings, groanings.

Did I say enough?
Did I do enough?
Did they know?


As if it knows it is about to be cast off, time bends in the space around this soul readying for departure, normal bounds do not apply. In those days, time stretches out, each hour lasts forever.
Nothing makes a minute last longer than counting breaths.
 20,
12,
7,
5.
Each minute an eon, yet not long enough.

In the space between one heartbeat and the next, the light goes out. The next heartbeat doesn't come. The bird has flown, thrown off the surly bonds of time and space, now a part of eternity.


For those left behind the warp continues, for a short while at least. Hours and entire days, lost. But then, as if to make up for being slowed, time speeds up, unimaginably! What do you mean it has been 3 weeks? 6 weeks? 2 months? Where has the time gone? How dare the rest of the world keep moving... hurtling, along?

I held my breath as hers slipped away. And I'm still gasping.


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