And the World Paused...

And the World Paused

         12:00. Time to get going. Goodbye, mom, dad. I love you. I’ll see you in the afterlife, if nature is nice enough to grant it to us. Jim, I hope by some impossible variable, you find the love you’re doomed never to find. Karen, I hope you can forgive me for this. Ed, I hope you choke.

         It’s cold. I should have brought a sweatshirt or something. It’s too late now. I’ve got to keep going. Where am I? Oh, Red Street. I’m getting close to Tryst Avenue. Maybe I should go back… No, I can’t now.

         Who’s driving this late at night?

Skid. Crash. Black. White.

         Marian’s head was swirling with panic, shock, and nausea. She hit something, but what did she hit?
         “Please not a person… Please not a person…” she wished to herself. “Oh, God… Please not a person…”
         She walked around to the front of her car. It took a second for her brain to process the overwhelming sight lying in the road.

And the world paused…

         All she could hear were tragedies floating through the air, and the sad, rhythmic ding of the open car door. She cried out into the deserted street in a vain attempt to expel the restless sea of emotions flowing through her. The depths of these emotions never were, or would be surpassed. This night, this scene, this one woman’s grief; they are the heart of everything. Every event in history was carefully planned and executed for this one culmination of spectacularly somber emotion. Even you and I have been marionettes in this terrible cosmic scheme.
         Marian’s tears slid from her eyes as she cried into her son’s bloody shirt. She felt as though everything she’d ever done had led her to this point in time, as if this was her doing. That was true.
         Marian thought, “Time should stop for this. Time should show its sympathy. Time should--”

And the world paused…

         Time passed excruciatingly slowly as Marian wept into her son’s limp and lifeless body. Time passed excruciatingly quickly as the police arrived and took her son away from her. Time passed excruciatingly normally as she attempted to go on the next week.
         Marian had read somewhere that every parent who loses a child finds a way to laugh again. She didn’t think so. Her emotions ran so deep that her grief rippled through the world. That night, the next morning, and the following week, everyone and everything in the world felt the cold distance of eternity.
         Marian’s face sagged as the weight of everything hung upon her. She struck everyone with a feeling of loneliness and depression, and everyone was connected.
         Marin’s inability to function normally was causing her more grief, and her family had her see a psychiatrist.
         “Tell me, Marian, do you think the amount of depression you’re feeling is normal for a woman in your situation?” inquired the doctor painfully as he tried to remain professional. He was struck with the grief that was inundating Marian.
         She sat in shameful silence, tears consistently falling from her insomnia-stricken eyes. The doctor leaned forward with an unusual amount of sympathy, and met Marian’s eyes. For a moment, their eyes were fixated upon themselves and each other, and in that Moment, they shared something intangible, indescribable, and relentless. The beauty of this new emotion was too great for them to bear for long, and they tore away from it.
         The doctor was now crying as well, and one of them involuntarily said:

“Go. Find your joy.”

         They both knew deep down that this would never happen, but they felt as if some blow inside them had been softened.
         Marian left the doctor who was now filled with the grief that struck Marian, and he finally understood how unbearably glorious it truly was.
         Marian drove away to nowhere, hoping to find anywhere. She stopped at a small gas station in the middle of anywhere, and looked through her tears to find the owner.
         He found her, and when their eyes met, they shared that Moment of terrible beauty. The man found himself feeling distanced and alienated from Marian in that Moment, and everything was connected.
         “So,” said the estranged man. “Where ya’ headed?”

And the world paused…

         Marian cried silently, until she was interrupted, as everything is interrupted, by the man’s sympathetic voice saying, “I filled ‘er up for ya’…Don’t bother payin’.”
         The man was now crying as well, and again, one of them involuntarily said:

“Go. Find your joy.”

         Marian left this man filled with unbearable glory, which he would pass through the world, until it was covered in a blanket of beauty, grief, and intangible, indescribable, and relentless emotion.
         Marian drove through anywhere late into the night. She looked at the clock, and through her tears, saw blurry red figures that formed 11:59 PM. As she looked, another car approached from the side.

         Who’s driving this late at night?

Skid. Crash. Black. White.

         January 1, 2007, Marian died seeing her son’s image fall out of the glovebox.

         She had found her joy.

         …and the blanket of beauty, grief, and intangible, indescribable, and relentless emotion on the world stayed, as everyone felt its presence, its weight, its glory, its—

And the world stopped.