Curiouser and Curiouser

F-3: Talking to Time

Would you like to have a particular time of the day remain at a constant? Try negotiating said hour to Mr. Time, and if you’re convincing enough, he can do you a big favor. (<500 words)

“I'm not sure I believe in you,” I say to Mr. Time. “Or rather, I'm not sure I believe in human ability to objectively measure you.”

“An interesting notion,” he says. “And that makes me . . .”

“More fluid than fixed,” I reply. “Time is about perception more than anything else. I remember five days that I spent in a NICU that lingered and lasted forever until Caleb died. And then, they were so short—just an instant. I've sat at the computer and written, and when I looked up, I'd missed meals because hours had flown without my perceiving them at all.”

“Ah.” He nods. “That is a relevant point, but it still doesn't touch on why you've come to me today. Generally, supplicants are more focused.”

“I'm getting there,” I say. “I was just checking my work for accuracy.”

“I can't tell you that. You should know that.”

“But there aren't enough hours to finish everything. My shawl needs to be finished by Wednesday, my writing by Saturday. If you could just linger—maybe for a week or so? Then I could get everything done.”

He shakes his head. “Don't be silly, child. Don't waste me. Just catch hold of a dragon's wings and you'll soar as I rush by.”

And my audience is over. I blink and I'm back in front of my computer again, my knitting at my side and my dragon close at hand. “Time to soar,” I say, and the world blurs into story as time passes.

word count: 259