Time Unbound

[Chapter 2] Awkward Backward

The clock's hands stop turning.

I hold my breath.

He locks eyes with me. "I have told you who I am."

My breath whooshes out in annoyance. "But that's not all, right? Because really, the venerable Father-fucking-Time just does not appear out of nowhere. Hell, you aren't even supposed to exist! But then here you are in front of me, annoying the crap out of me and making me think I've gone off the deep end! Fuck."

"I don't know where to start." He looks lost. "I don't even know why I am here. Or why you alone can see me. Or why I even manifested as a human. This has never happened before." He picks up the clock and stares at it. The hands begin moving erratically back and forth, as if sensing the man's agitation. Then he looks at me with soulful brown eyes. "I seem to be trapped here in the present, with you."

If it had been an ordinary gorgeous guy who said that to me, I think I might have swooned and thanked my lucky stars. But the one in front of me is anything but ordinary, however good-looking he might be.

For a moment, I contemplate grabbing the damn clock from him and banging it against my head again just to check my sanity--or lack thereof. But the bump I hit earlier is still throbbing and I really have no desire to inflict any further unnecessary damage to my person, thank you very much. So I settle for closing my eyes, taking several deep breaths and hoping against hope that I'd snap out of this seeming delusion. Please, please, please let me wake up now, I chant in my head. I promise I'll sleep the full eight hours tonight so I don't get any more hallucinations like this tomorrow.

Once I feel sufficiently calmed down, I open my eyes once more. I really am not hallucinating. The ridiculously good-looking young man calling himself Father Time (of all the damn things!) is still in front of me, looking lost and forlorn. Despite my cynical disbelief, I feel a slight twinge of pity.

"Aren't you supposed to be powerful or something? I mean, you control time for chrissakes! Surely there's gotta be something you can do about this?"

"I am not really sure."

My temper flares once more. "Oh my god, I can not fucking believe this! You say you are this all-powerful entity manifested in human flesh, and here you are acting like a petulant teenager and you can't even think of something, anything! to do about this, whatever the hell this problem of yours is! I'm surprised you made it this far at all!" The force of my own passion surprises me. I wince. Okay, so maybe that was just a bit harsh.

His face is a blank mask as he gently puts down the clock on my desk. "You have no idea what you're talking about either." He stares at me for a long moment then abruptly stands up and walks out.

He pauses at the doorway and turns back to say, "I would have liked to say I am sorry for disrupting your day, but manifesting here was not my choice and I had no say in the matter either." Then he leaves.

The clock resumes its frantic backwards journey.

For a moment, I am tempted to run after him and apologize for my outburst, but I just throw my hands up in exasperation. A quick side-way glance tells me that my office mate is still in her sweet little piece of oblivion so I turn back to my monitor. What could be so damn engrossing that she'd totally ignore all that racket? For chrissakes, she isn't even wearing her damn earphones!

My fingers automatically start tapping away on my desk--a sure sign that I'm agitated. Well, whose psyche wouldn't be even just a little ruffled by that weird encounter? Father Time, seriously? But even as I look at the clock once more, a creeping doubt insinuates itself to my consciousness.

I stand up and resolutely make my way to my office mate's work space. Either she's really really ignoring me or she has gone catatonic. But no, her fingers are flying across the keyboard. I stand behind her and look at the monitor over her shoulder. She does not give any indication whatsoever that she knows I am behind her, or to the fact that I even exist.

When I look at her monitor, it takes a moment to make sense of what I am seeing. She's typing away at the keyboard, but instead of words spilling forth across the screen, the letters are disappearing backwards one by one. As if sucked back from the screen to the CPU to the keyboard and back to her tapping fingertips. I shudder. Now this is definitely creepy stuff.