For the next three weeks I will be publishing a short story I wrote. There are three sections, so I am going to break it up in part to generate some interest, keep the reading to a minimum and yes, to have something to post for the next three weeks.
So sit back, not too far, OK, that’s better…and enjoy part one of Time (Seems I write a lot about time – check out other posts here and here). Part II & III are now available too. Please check out the entire story and let me know what you think.
OK, now enjoy…
Time
PART I
The ring sat on the counter. Clean and alone. He had place it there when he got home and could not bear the idea of putting it away. Or wearing it again. He would – eventually do something with it. He was not sure what. Not now, perhaps not for a while. It was safe where it was. He could see it if needed, otherwise he did not have to look that way.
Time. He needed time.
Time was his best friend and worst enemy. How much time had he spent already watching, helpless, watching as her life drained from his bride? How much time had he spent wondering if it was over?
Was she gone now? How long could she, would she, hold on? How long could she hold out? Keeping his hopes alive when she was not. Knowing he could neither hope nor wonder the same for her.
Time was not his friend. It had been the worst of advisories for too long. Refusing to move fast enough to provide comfort for her and too fast for them to be together. Time had dictated their lives for longer than he could remember. Time said “it’s time to go to the doctor”, “Time for treatment.” Time was cruel. Time was created by God but co-opted by Satan and used to abuse those that are bound by its lanky cold tentacles. Those whose lives are wed to it for existence.
He left the room with the light on – feeling the ring did not need to be in the dark as he was. The ring which they had chosen together to be the symbol of their love. He always hated it because he felt it was too small and too unattractive for her finger. She claimed it was perfect. Simple, not overstated. “That’s an under-statement” he said.
He knew she really loved it. For him, it was less a symbol of their commitment to each other and more a glaring reminder of what he was not able to do, buy her a proper ring, or a fancy car, a large house – honestly, all the things he wanted to buy her, his best friend. She deserved more than he could ever provide and every time he looked at her hand – he knew he was right.
He got the kitchen. Flipped on the light and opened the door to the refrigerator. He looked inside and told himself he needed to eat. Everyone said that.
“Eat something, you look terrible.”
“Thanks.” He replied.
“Starving yourself will not bring her back.”
“No, it won’t. I’ll eat later” he promised.
Lost in those thoughts he forgot where he was or why he opened the door. How long he stood there he could not remember. He stared at the food people dropped off. Lots of options. Too many.
He thought he might put the ring in the freezer. People do that – right? Jewelry in the deep freezer? He tried to remember a movie or something he saw as a kid. Something with Bogart perhaps. Well, that’s something to deal with at another time.
Again, a matter of time.
It kept coming up.
The unknown and largely misunderstood issue of time, “Satan’s playground” was wreaking havoc with his mind. Time had taken her and it would take time before he was back with her or felt less pain as a result of her memory.
Damn time.
He closed the fridge and turned empty handed. Still not hungry. He would, at some point, keep his promise to eat but he had not said when.
He thought about turning and looking at the ring. Instead, he left the kitchen,
Sitting down, he thought about the many times they sat here together – in this room. The times that they watched movies, talked, had friends over, argued and laughed. How they cried when she had the first miscarriage and again, after the second, less than a year later. The tears when they brought home their son – who at the time was to be the first of many.
Time had other plans. It always had other plans. It would not be mastered, could not be mastered. It drove toward the future without thought, remorse or regret. Time was no bullet to the head, rather a slow agonizing death.
Their son was with her folks. They were always good for that. Soon he would want him home, but right now he needed to deal with things alone. He had to figure out his life and what it meant before reintroducing the boy into whatever would be their new life.
Perhaps they’d move to Seattle, like in that movie? Probably not. He had friends in Colorado and thought about moving there on a number of occasions. This might be the time.
Time
The image of their son faded as did the thought of mountains.
He blinked.
He was back in the kitchen staring at the ring. He had no idea how long it had been. His legs were tired, arms sore from leaning.
2 AM? How could he waste so much time? How could he lose himself like that? How can he get back into his life, his routine if he loses hours that easily? He could not work with his mind blacking out like that. His job was not watching traffic, no one would die if he zoned out for two minutes or even two hours but they would not keep him.
He wondered the empty house. For how long he did not know.
Time finally allowed him to sleep.
Next Tuesday
Be alert at Noon, I’ll release Part II. I would LOVE to read your thoughts.
*Photo by Jordan Benton: https://www.pexels.com/photo/shallow-focus-of-clear-hourglass-1095601/
Mick Holt 
Trackbacks and Pingbacks
[…] back for part two of, Time – A Short Story. If you missed the first installment click here, Part I, to get caught up, then come back here to read the […]
[…] and you have not read the first two parts follow the links below, then buckle up for Part III. Part I and Part […]
[…] where I found the making of Time – A Short Story (I’d love for you to check that out, Part I, Part II and Part III are here, well, there if you follow those links). The thing about this […]