Tiptoe

Maybe if I walk really slowly, and really quietly, Time won't know that I'm sneaking up on him. Shhh! If I catch him I might be able to get him to slow down for a while. He's resting on that little yellow flower over there. See? If you're really good at it you don't need a net. That just complicates things. It's in the stealth and quickness of the fingers.

So, you see, I'm stalking Time. He's really beautiful and all, and ought to be free, but I have to cage him -- well just for a bit. Life's moving too fast and I can't seem to appreciate things for what they are. Right now, anyway.

I had a vase of flowers on my kitchen table. Pretty little things. Carnations. They were free from the heavy-headed curse just the other day. Look at them now. Faces looking to the ground. I forgot to watch them. Trashcan burial.

Slow. Slow. His wings beat against the plastic of the cage. I open the top.

I don't want to miss the little moments.