Time is an amazing entity.
It marches forward leaving those slow enough behind. Like wind, it’s a passing pleasantry for all parties fortunate and worthy for it’s prescence. Even so, not a lot of mortals are worthy of it. It stretches long when you don’t need it to and seems to fly past when you need it. My appreciation of Time started with my first clock in my collection.
At the age of ten, on the fifth second of the 23th minute on the 17th hour of 32 July 1992, my grandfather gifted me my first clock. A mahogany frame with hand-written digits, it was a mechanical clock spanning .623 meters. My grandfather was not a clockmaker, he was a handyman and a decent craftman. The clock was not accurate. On the next day at the 56th second of the third hour of the day, I fixed the clock. It came naturally; I knew the clock was not accurate and had to be fixed.
The clock hanged on the wall that touches the foot of my bed. It was a beautiful scene of perfect man-made machinery mimicking nature up to the nanosecond. It made a sooting “Tick Tick Tack Tick” sound every second, reminding me how much I let pass me.
I stared at the clock for hours marveling at the wonder that is Time.
Sometimes I got mad at the clock but no matter how much I yelled, cried and begged, it never stopped for me.
How foolish of young me to think that Time has any care for a speck of dust like me. At that specific moment, the 32th second of the third minute at the 14th hour, it became clear that I needed to prove my worthiness to serve Time. It became clear how crooked and disorderly the mortal realms were. I was chosen to fix this inaccuracy.
Globally, we depended on something called the Global Time Server which provided the internet and all countries with access to it the decided “Time” of day but horrifyingly, this server was off by five minute and 23 seconds, an outrageous disrespectful display to Time. I needed access to the server and fix it, but I have no knowledge of how the internet works. I needed to tell the people in charge that they are wrong.
They laughed at me.
Morons. Fools. Simpletons. Idiots. How dare they. “I’ll show them.” young me spoke out to my clock. But the clock was unforgiving, it beat me with it’s deafening ticks and tacks, such apathy was torture for me. I was their saviour and this is how they treated me? Like a fool!? Revenge in the name of Time was in order.
Seeking harmonization, I took my clock out on the streets and beat a stray. It breathed at 1.032 second intervals. Outrageous. “Better none than wrong.”
The stray was a friend of a homeless man. He ran away and his steps were in 0.72 second intervals. Unacceptable. He couldn’t run away, Time was on my side and wanted me to win. Time wanted me to fix these vile beings that breaks Time’s law.
It took 4 minutes and 5 seconds before I saw another atrocity, a siren of some sort. Just as it seemed that I was making progress, a droplet of rain water drips down my forehead. It’s raining, a sign from Time for me to rest my conquest temporarily.
It rained for 5 days, 6 hours, 7 minutes and 8 seconds.
These numbers definitely meant something. At the local library I checked the seventh book from the sixth section of the fifth book shelf. The shelf was labelled for “Religious Text” and what’s this? “Theology and Philosophy Of The God”, a clear sign from Time. Flipping to the eight page I read a disgusting term. “History Of False Idols and Worship Of Non-physical entities”. Puzzled, I opted to read at least a bit.
Written into the pages were aggressive acts of terror against lord Time. It was clear that there were more before me that was given Time’s message but they failed. I will not fail. “George Douglas” was written at the bottom part of the book’s cover. I knew what I needed to do.
It took 23 years, 11 months, 23 minutes and 3 seconds but here I am. In a certain George’s kitchen cupboard, waiting for dusk where he will discover the last face he will see in the name of Time.
Tick Tack Tack Tick.