I stand still, but Time does not.
He stirs the leaves over my head and sends a chill up my spine, graying the tiny hairs that cling to the back of my neck. Shallow light pulls shadows like taffy along the forest floor. They stretch thin, thinner, fading into the night. The moon replaces the sun and brings with it a bitter chill. It bites at my nose and numbs my unmoving feet. I pull a long breath into my lungs, catching the taste of autumn on the back of my tongue. Branches lay bare above my head. Their once green leaves bury my feet beneath an amber blanket. Amber turns to silver, the snow falling soft and silent, swallowing the sounds of the forest in a single gulp.
I’m hunted but the tick, tick tick.
I duck behind buildings and slink into alleys. I call myself Lily, then Aster, now Holly. And I am never her for long, but just long enough. Long enough to know I cannot stay. That is my hot-potato life. Always moving, always changing, one step ahead, lest He find me at last.
Time stands still, He caught me by surprise.
Like a lost child, Time stayed in place, patiently awaiting my return. With dark eyes and paper-skin I recognize him now as an old friend. Once my pursuer, he is now the pursued. I fall into his embrace—strong, heavy, like a long, evasive sleep. He wraps me in his arms and stills my once fiercely beating heart. And I am neither warm nor cold.
He stirs the leaves over my head and sends a chill up my spine, graying the tiny hairs that cling to the back of my neck. Shallow light pulls shadows like taffy along the forest floor. They stretch thin, thinner, fading into the night. The moon replaces the sun and brings with it a bitter chill. It bites at my nose and numbs my unmoving feet. I pull a long breath into my lungs, catching the taste of autumn on the back of my tongue. Branches lay bare above my head. Their once green leaves bury my feet beneath an amber blanket. Amber turns to silver, the snow falling soft and silent, swallowing the sounds of the forest in a single gulp.
I’m hunted but the tick, tick tick.
I duck behind buildings and slink into alleys. I call myself Lily, then Aster, now Holly. And I am never her for long, but just long enough. Long enough to know I cannot stay. That is my hot-potato life. Always moving, always changing, one step ahead, lest He find me at last.
Time stands still, He caught me by surprise.
Like a lost child, Time stayed in place, patiently awaiting my return. With dark eyes and paper-skin I recognize him now as an old friend. Once my pursuer, he is now the pursued. I fall into his embrace—strong, heavy, like a long, evasive sleep. He wraps me in his arms and stills my once fiercely beating heart. And I am neither warm nor cold.
“Time’s Up” Flash Fiction
Submitted by Zoe Sayetta
Submitted by Zoe Sayetta