The sun slowly sinking down for its daily rest over the horizon from the view of his window signaled another fall.
Each tumble of a sand grain joining its brothers and sisters at the bottom indicated he was one step closer to his own downfall. He had this hollow feeling, knowing that you are about to disappear in the middle of history that was still unfolding.
He was exhausted of it all; grief, longing and solitariness all stacked high into a pile, forced to reside in all the crevices of his own abode to haunt him. Even his eyes seemingly gush out a stream of sorrow from time to time without him knowing. Stains of dried blood blemished the concrete walls caused by his sore and bruised knuckles, embedded for the sake of unleashing his contained anger and frustration. All thoughts directed towards the object that determines his existence.
The hourglass stood by itself on the window.
The dark shadow of its slender figure was casted upon the table where he sat across from. He thought about how the hourglass was the messenger that delivered both a blessing and curse into his life.
It was his lifeline.
Without the sands in one of the bulbs showing any motion to fall, it was a given this was the sign of his eternal life. Just like the grains, his life was forever stuck in one place, without ever having to move forward. Henceforth, he lived without the worry of time catching up to him.
But unfortunately, a fateful twilight occurred and he saw the sand grains slowly pile up at the bottom bulb.
He knew this was it. His infinite suddenly became finite.
He thought about how time was slowly plotting its vengeance. It was waiting patiently to catch him and wrap an arm around his neck, to finally put him at his rightful place.
It was as if, Time, itself, tapped him on the shoulder like it was a hide-and-seek game and laughed wickedly in his ear to say, "At last, I finally caught you."
Feeling suffocated and unable to breathe, he thought about how this was his punishment for not being able to fulfill his task.
His task to bestow more numbers of days to those humans who are in most need and most deserving of it.
Irresponsible, selfish, unconcerned-these are what he is because he, for as long as he lived never accepted his role. He lived without a care about the human lives. Not once, did he ever give anyone the gift of time. It was perhaps he wasn't entirely human and he did not like to dwell into the wide spectrum of human emotions which in turn made him master the art of being emotionless and detached to the world.
He had lost all hope to run away. After all, being given life for all eternity-he knew it was time to cut the string with sharp scissors.
However, the guilt of not fulfilling the reason why he was even here at the first place was too intolerable for his conscience to bear.
This made him thunder down the rickety stairs of his apartment to face reality. He knew he was not going to be able to give every single one the time he has denied them of. But this was reality now, he needs to give what he can while he is still here even if it seems like it would not surmount to anything grand at this point.
There he went, observing the daily struggles of humans with managing the limited time in the palm of their hands. How some managed to spend it wisely and how mostly others wasted it devastatingly.
He gave generously to those who are in need of time.
Time to love.
Time to let go.
Time to forgive.
Time to heal.
Time to find themselves.
As he gave each time, the grains of sand in his hourglass also gave themselves up to fall. He is losing his own time whilst giving more time. Instead of rage blossoming out of his chest, he was accepting of the idea. He deserved it because even he was saddened by the fact that after all these years he could have helped people.
Before, he thought strongly of how time was like the vine that selfishly crawls up tree trunks in forests because all they have to do to survive is depend on the tall trees to reach the sunlight they need as they also absorb the nutrients the trees acquired themselves. Most would think it would be the other way around. How the vines would be the humans, always depending on the mighty tree because we all can't survive without the guide of time, which for the most part is true.
But for him, time has also depended on humans. Time is the vine that wouldn't even be thought of as something precious and worthy without us because we are the only observers of its existence. We are the trees that were enslaved by the limits of it. Forced to carry the burden of time, leeching off us for its own survival. We are drained and weak because of time but still, we learn to carry on with our lives knowing that it would be there to put us down yet we still continue to grow with it constantly on our backs.
Although, only then he realized why he was sent to do this mission. To observe how time revolves and ticks. He was asked to lessen the pain caused by time, only to let people have enough time to correct and learn from their mistakes. To ready themselves to be hurt again, to feel the joy of happiness after overcoming sadness. Only to ensure that enough time will be given even though you think there is none.
Time may be cruel yet it also cares for us.
As he stumbled back into his apartment, he saw the hourglass containing the last piece of grain, ready to end his journey. With the sun halfway down, he began to smile. He had the feeling of assurance; the humans wouldn't need his help further. After all, humans are those who are born to face challenges and conquer them.
