Ficly

Time

My latest wife lay dying in my arms. I use that term because I had long ago given up counting the dead bodies piling up in my soul. Oh, I know the number – that was part of the deal – I just try to block it out. But I remember every last one. Like a slide show, at first you look at each picture thoughtfully. But you gradually increase the speed, until all the images blur together.

Remember when we were young and summer would last forever? Endless time for running, swimming, or eating ice cream on the stoop for so long that it would melt and run down between your fingers? But as we got older, time started to move faster, and faster – like falling calendar pages from an old movie.

You can never get the deal right. There is always one thing you will miss. And I’ve had a lot time to reflect on it. Decades pass in a heartbeat, a century in a blink of an eye. I made a deal in my youth, and now I wish it would end. I have one last hope – the Sun is expected to die shortly and devour the earth. I can’t wait!

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