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The Pursuit of Time

Posted by Herbert Filby in July 13th 2009  

On my way to class this afternoon, I realized that I had forgotten something. With only five minutes left to get from the far end of the parking lot into the classroom, I had no time to remember what it was. And at that very moment, in that very thought, I realized what I lacked: Time herself. I picked up my pace, remembering the days when I actually had the chance to embrace and caress Time. Holding her in my arms, relaxing. Not now though. Always gone when I need her, Time has once again eluded me. She is not very reliable.

I first discovered Time in my youth, though I did not yet know her very well. We became acquainted much later, during my high school years. In those days, we wiled away the hours playing video games, reading, watching television… Oh! So many hours… Gone forever. It wasn’t until I started college that we became more intimate. I learned to appreciate her when she was near, and I felt all the more empty when she wasn’t. I began to obsess over her. Stalking her, I would watch her movements constantly. I was mesmerized by her slow but steady pace. She was all that mattered to me.

As my college years flew by, I noticed that Time and I seemed to have a bit of a falling out. Her visits became less and less frequent. In my most dire times of need, for exams, for homework, or even just getting from one place to another, I found myself alone and always in a hurry. Oh! how I wish I could capture Time, like an elusive genie; letting her out when I need her the most, and sticking her back in her bottle to save her from the dull moments in Life. Alas, Time is a free spirit and comes and goes as she pleases.

I saw her this afternoon, as I was rushing to my class. Though I only saw her from the back, the features were unmistakable; her luscious flowing hair, her long legs, her dainty feet, her fair hands. It surely was her. I quickened my pace to catch up, but no matter how fast I walked, even with her slow, steady, sensuous gait, I could not catch up to her. She entered the building I was headed for, and was lost in the crowd. Totally out of breath and heartbroken, I gathered my strength and climbed to the top of the stairs, and entered my class. Amazingly, I was two minutes early, thanks to her.

I saw her, much later, in another building. She was sitting on guy’s lap, whispering into his ear and giggling. The ignorant sod, with a dull look in his eye, promptly put his hat over his face, and fell asleep. She stayed with him, and twiddled with his hair. I felt a sudden surge of hate throughout my body. “That bastard,” I thought, “doesn’t appreciate Time, yet he has all the Time in the world.” And then I thought better of it, and instead thought “Time, you are a slut,” and I walked to my car.

under: Articles
Tags: aging, growing old, time
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