Where Does Time Go? A Confession (Fiction Friday)

Welcome to Fiction Friday.  Where does time go?

Where does time go? 

I guess it depends on what kind of time I’m thinking about. 

Space Time is difficult to comprehend.  The kind of time lapse in a Universal setting is hard to imagine.  I haven’t existed for even a blink of the Big Bang’s eye. 

In Kid Time I have been around for an incredibly long time.  Even when I lie and say I am 25 a kid will be impressed. 

I have observed time changes.  Years ago it took forever for Christmas to arrive and Summer Break went by in a Big Bang’s blink of an eye.  Now, a year passes so quickly I am certain I am missing out on something. 

If you are waiting in line to cast a vote, register a car or just trying to get to that bean dish at the Company Picnic, time comes to a stop, like double sided tape at Christmas Time. 

This is also true when you are trying to see a doctor.  A doctor gets paid even if you die.  What do we call a doctor who graduated last in his class?  A Doctor.  Anyway, mine has figured out how to make time so slow it backs up. 

First a client, patient or not, waits in the big room with other people who usually have wet gooey coughs.  You play with your phone, read old magazines or browse the literature left behind by pharmaceutical representatives.   

Then a nice lady cracks the door and calls your name.

The second part is the worst part.  The small room.  The one with paper sheets.  You don’t think you need the paper sheets and stirrups so you sit on a nice padded chair and listen to the clock, left by another pharmaceutical rep. 

It ticks and ticks.  A train goes by.  The clock ticks.  A jet flies over. The clock ticks.  You’ve resisted an urge to see what is in the drawers and now time is backing up. 

You think you are approaching the Space Time equivalent of the Big Bang as it existed before time and the Doctor comes in. 

Now, did he graduate last in his class and how much is it going to cost if he advises you not to buy green bananas? 

Time speeds up when you are running late.  You forgot about the bridge construction and said you’d meet with a potential client four minutes ago.  Five, now. 

Time speeds up when it is Time for me to write a Fiction Friday Post.  So here I am sitting at my laptop, going on and on about time. 

I’ll be back later to write some fiction.  Wait here. (Tick Tick Tick) If you get bored go ahead and look under the table with the paper sheets.  There are drawers to the front and what looks like a sliding door on the side. 

Now, for a Fiction Friday Story from an Interrogation Room

A Confession

“Seriously, you guys are charging me? It was the girl. Let me tell you what happened.

I was going about my business, keeping to myself.  I didn’t know she’d come in but she did.

I was on the big orange cushion heading across the room to my usual corner when in she came.  She plopped down right next to me with something that smelled like curdled milk. 

I tried to make myself small.  I was stuck there wondering if I should go back where I came from or go ahead and dart across to the corner I was headed for.

Then it happened.  She let out the most blood curdling scream I ever heard.  Who knew a little girl had all that inside her. 

Well I think I was twice as startled as she was.  I thought we were both about to be eaten by something so I started to move.  At this point though, everything went wrong. 

The kid jumped up and then for some reason I’ll never know, she plopped back down on the cushion.  This launched me into the air and I landed right in her hair close to her chin.  She began screaming.  I began screaming.  She began batting at me. 

Before I knew what was happening she was out of the room and I was still with her. 

That’s when you showed up and saved me from certain doom.

That is my story and I’m sticking to it.”

Spider