On Time

A Story by t

The man roamed down a stone path, a path that led him to pass the place where he was born. He paused monetarily at the scene. He had been born and raised in a modest, wooden, house in Wisconsin. He stood at the gate, remembering his happy childhood. It seemed to be only seconds, before the path lurched forward, jerking him along against his will. This extraordinary stone path ripped him away from his happy place-his childhood and forced him to pass his high school and junior college. Those years had been a blur for the man, and as the path pulled on, he tried to craning his neck, as the buildings of youth faded into the dim afternoon.

The man realized that time was the enemy. The path seemed to go on and on in a straight line as far as his eye could see. He came to another stop, this time he was placed in front of his Army Base. He waited there a long time, realizing what he had spent his entire life on.

Soon the path floated him down an unfamiliar cross road. The man struggled, and fought trying to break the paths direction into the unknown. He preferred to stay where he felt comfortable, at his childhood preferably, or maybe even at his Army base. But the path lacked warmth or compassion and kept dragging him further down a dark, thorny route. It was like he was being led into the dark chambers of his heart, a place that he wanted to forget.

The path dumped him in front of a small cottage covered in vines. The man had never seen this place before. The whole scene, while serene, was chilling at the same time. Soon loud cries shattered the peaceful silence. A young girl no bigger than the bundle she held, emerged from the cottage and stood in the door way. Frazzled, she stood rocking back and forth in attempts to sooth the piercing cries of the baby. She looked down at her wrist watch, then off into the distance, as if she were waiting on someone. She shifted the inconvenient baby in her arms, before giving up and slamming the cottage door shut.

For some unknown reason the man stood there, for what seemed to be all of eternity before the cottage door opened again. Out bounded a small dark haired toddler, her giggles and happiness glowed, and she waddled past the invisible man and hid behind some bushes. The man’s eyes darted in every direction trying to find the cherubic child, instead a dark hair little school girl strode right through him, carrying a book bag full of homework; she entered the cottage and shut the door.

The wind bellowed and howled and the man was feeling very ill, when the window opened and a beautiful young lady, with raven hair began watering the window flowers. On this note, the withered man was ripped from the beautiful sight.

The man, feeling quite strange, was forced into a familiar town, where he pushed through masses of people that he once knew. Neighbors, cousins, and even his twin brother simply shoved passed him and kept their eyes straight forward. He felt quite heavy, and didn't care to speak to anyone, because he knew that no one could relieve his burden. He passed the raven hair girl, who was now a raven hair woman. They locked eyes for a brief second and it was as if some universal knowledge existed between them. Before he could take another breath, she vanished.

The man bitterly continued his walk, passing memories of holidays all alone, rekindling relationships that didn't matter, and spending many days search for something that he felt he’d lost.

Too weak to continue his journey, the path slowly came to a stop, and then took him into a cemetery illuminated by candles. He was old now, too old to make anymore good memories, nothing left but a hollow old body full of regret. He crumbled onto the cool soil of a small, freshly dug, grave. He knew right then, that this was the dark hair girls grave. Her life had only been but a blink, a single breath of air. At an instant he heard the echoing cries of a newborn, followed by the haunting missed giggles of a toddler. He found what he had been missing, but he was too late. If only he had been on time…