Short Stories From A Peculiar Mind

Too Late

Running fast was part of life, I found. Life only progresses forward, never back. Progress was something I knew inherently went.

But no one likes to remember that life comes to a halt.

I had done it, as many would say. I'd gathered the culmination of all my resources and inner wisdom, and done it. I found the perfect job after going through the grueling years of education. I found the perfect girl, someone who'd only wished to share in my accomplishments, as I did hers. We had a little family and pets, three cats all loving and carefree as we were.

Everything was set in stone, and Time was moving forward as is expected.

Except I didn't want it to.

Once you run out of Time, you cannot get it back. Was I truly alive, even with all of my accomplishments?

I run at the gym, feeling amazing. It's one of the few Times I'm lost in Times, not aware of the passing ticks. One song plays, then another, then another. A cascading waterfall of sound pleasing to my ears that will never stop.

It's heaven.

Then I come home, knowing soon I will have to return to The Job.

The Job doesn't need a name for this story, as many things don't. We all have it, and many of us avoid it. Either option is not keen, cementing into our minds how truly mortal we are.

So yes, I come home and see my amazing life partner. She's everything I'd wanted, funny, good looking and loving. For her the love comes easier than others. Although specific with her love, I'm glad she had chosen me as one of her targets.

For I, love comes in bursts. Some days I feel overwhelmed with joy, wanting nothing to do but continue on my crusade of awesome accomplishments.

Other days I want nothing but to curl up into a ball and die. For no good reason, other than that there is the fast passing of Time.

The cats are loving, as always. I pet them, give them the companionship they so easily deserve. I flop down, and open my electrical inhibitor of choice. The first thing I do is see everyone else's face pictures doing their own life things. As usual, it's always the loud ones that post, while the quiet ones only observe.

I'm an observer today.

My train of thought was burst by my love, someone I adore 50 percent of the Time.

"How was the gym, love?" She asks me the question as though it held any significance to me.

"It was good, I feel good after it." I lie. I usually do, but today I do not.

"I'm glad, I made us lunch. I thought maybe we could go for a walk? It's very nice and sunny out today."

And what? Walk ourselves to oblivion? The Job already takes my days, and now Time takes the rest.

"Maybe later." I say.

She shrugs, figuring I'm in one of my moods. How right she must be, I ask myself.

I'm at our patio door now, staring out into the snowy abyss I call Earth. Minutes ago I could have sworn it was summer Time.

Oh how the Job claims my life, and Time claims the rest.

I do what I do best, and run.

I run straight through the patio door, and straight through the patio railing.

No peeps from me as I fall down and down, into what I like to call The Bliss.