[The Passing of Time, 545 words, Genre: Experimental]
* Image courtesy of Dirk de Bruyn
The clock stood on the wall. It slowly ticked away and as Paul stared at it, he could slowly see the ticking of the seconds as they passed away. Time is a funny thing, when we have plenty of it, the monitoring of it can drive the individual mad. For others, with a schedule or routine, time becomes a measurement of their daily living habits. They know that they have to be awake at a certain hour. They know that they will have approximately this much time so that they can eat. They know that they will have this much time to sleep. They know that they have to be at work at a certain hour and they know the hourly increments of their daily work routines.
Without routine, time can drive you mad. You can look at the passing of the clock and just like sand through an hourglass you can slowly see your time drifting away… Fading into nothing more than a skeleton sitting on a couch and watching things fade away.
Paul stared at the clock… Watching it slowly tick, ticking away. He didn’t have a routine, didn’t have a job, all he had was time. And what good is time when you have nothing to do with it? When you are working, when you have a job, sometimes when the job becomes tedious you will find yourself staring at the clock, waiting for the time to come to an end. Because when that time comes to an end, you know that you will be free and the time will once again be yours’. When you have nothing but time on your hands you will be looking at the clock and wanting to turn the seconds backwards so that you can recapture all of that wasted time.
Paul sat and looked at the clock. How was he going to spend his time? After all, we all have limited time on the planet. Time is a measurement of the institution, without it they would not be able to schedule their various meetings and appointments. A clock is a tool, nothing more.
There are three types of people in the world. Those who have too much time on their hands and watch the clock slowly spend the hours away. Then there are those who exist on schedule, those who measure time in increments and exist in the world of routine and schedule. Then there is the third kind, the kind that doesn’t waste any time because they are always working. For them, time is also meaningless because there is no end to their work. They look at time in a completely different way than the first two. The first regrets having wasted their time. The second counts down the time, until time is once again theirs’. The third has neither wasted their time, nor are they waiting for time to become once again theirs’. Time becomes this annoying distraction where they don’t exist on a schedule because they are always working.
And as Paul sat there, watching the clock tick away, he was reminded by the inevitability of passing time. Was he going to waste it? Was he going to count down the hours in routine? Or was he going to do something else?