Another Year Done

Another Year Done (300 words)

Time stood still, watching another year come to an end. He ran a spectral hand over a line of glass bottles, each one sparkling as if it had a miniature galaxy swirling within, each one containing a previous year, dating back to The Beginning.

Space watched eagerly. She had always wanted to see how it was done.

“Pass me that empty bottle suspended over there,” Time said.

“What’s the magic word?” said Space.

“Really?” Time raised a metaphysical eyebrow.

“Yes, really.”

“Please,” Time sighed.

“Thanks,” said Space. “Here. What next?” She swelled with anticipation.

“Well,” Time said, “it has to be timed exactly so.”

There was a fuzziness to reality now, a prickly fuzziness, which grew thicker and thicker.

“Unbeknownst to mortals,” Time said, “everything everywhere happens all at once, so to speak, and if one pays close attention, the ticking over of a new year is just about perceptible.”

“Fireworks,” said Space.

“No,” Time said. “Humans send off their fireworks at entirely the wrong time of the year. It’s a shame, really.”

“Oh,” Space said, “shame.”

A sound began to sizzle into existence, quietly at first, then growing louder and louder.

“This had better be good,” said Space.

“My dear, have I ever let you down?” Time buffed the empty glass bottle in preparation, until it shone brilliantly. “Ready,” he said, “now!”

The sizzling sound stopped with a great pop. Every colour of the rainbow, including those not of the rainbow, burst out in long glistening streams, filled with vignettes of every moment that had occurred in reality over the past twelve months. Time deftly captured them all in the bottle — moments of happiness and sadness and love and hate and everything. “There,” he said, holding up another miniature galaxy trapped inside the bottle.

“Wow,” said Space, “it’s beautiful.”