I stand outside at night with a cigarette in one hand and a lighter in the other. There is no wind, the world itself has stopped momentarily leaving me in a bubble of time to stand patiently and think about life.

A tree in front of me remains motionless, frozen in the darkness. Barely backlit by light from a nearby window I can see the auburn leaves drooped down like husks ready to crumble. Even the lightest breeze would threaten to detach their old dying stems. But no wind will come.

A bird sits patiently waiting for a worm to rise from the ground, ready to strike at any moment, knowing that its next meal will be soon. Then it will fly off back to its nest and await the morning sun. But no worm will come.

This is my Time. Alone in thought but also space. A moment in which I and only I can consider my life. I think back on recent years, wondering what influences the choices I have made. Is it fate? Part of a master plan? I think not, the human mind has a way of fabricating patterns in the chaos of the universe.

 

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