A Moment In Time - Friday Flash
The offer of travelling back in time. As a tourist to see some great event in history. As an educator attempting to better equip folk with knowledge to save themselves. As an advocate trying to right some injustice. As an activist, seeking to prevent some atrocity through assassination.
My motives were more humble. From over far more shrunken a horizon. Nevertheless I did want to put right a wrong. To bring back a life. Or at least to preserve it, where its possessor had snuffed it out at their own hand.
I would go back and not spurn his proposal of marriage. His yearning for children, confetti, confessions, the lot. No longer would I wantonly demolish his hopes and deny him his envisioned life. Never did I foresee the fatal consequences it would lead to.
This time I would accept. But it’s not so much as doing it in the light of what I know now. Probably would entail me grabbing the noose from his hand and putting it around my own neck. So I guess I also need to find out why I turned him down flatly. I mean I know I struggle to commit to anyone for the long haul, but I’m unsure as to why I am forever a black hole to the star-crossed.
Perhaps it’s not that that moment when he was down on one knee and I crushed him with my hammer blow of a refusal. Maybe I need to range further back that that. For even now I haven’t a clue where my reluctance stems from. That’s what I need to discover. To derive the source.
How far back in time might I need to go then? Adolescence? When none of us could possibly commit to anything, for fear that we might miss out on some future dish. Even those who fell pregnant and decided to terminate rather than yoke themselves. Man oh man, imagine going back to that point, keeping the baby this time round in the knowledge that you once slew it. But luckily that had never been any part of my story.
Presumably I venture back into my childhood and see what about my experiences left me with a phobia of commitment. To that good life where none of us ever want to leave. Of endless summers and no responsibilities. But we all felt that and none of my peers have go on to remain footloose and fancy free. Though just as miserable.
So maybe I need to drive further back still. Perhaps all the way back into the womb? But why stop there? I’d only have to regress further and delve into the lives of both my parents when they were children. But I how could I split myself between their two physicalities? This time travel choice is a real conundrum. How to pick a moment, the right moment… Do I go back to the birth of man? Beyond that to the Big Bang itself when our species weren’t even a twinkling in space dust’s eye?
Yet would even reliving my life provide me with any insight to bring into the present day? Maybe I should just spurn this corporate offer to make private restitution. To let sleeping dogs lie. To leave lifeless lovers at the end of their line.
I resolve against going down the line myself. There is no such thing as a moment in time along the continuum of a person’s being. I fold the circular in two and tear it in half. Then I tear those two halves further…
My motives were more humble. From over far more shrunken a horizon. Nevertheless I did want to put right a wrong. To bring back a life. Or at least to preserve it, where its possessor had snuffed it out at their own hand.
I would go back and not spurn his proposal of marriage. His yearning for children, confetti, confessions, the lot. No longer would I wantonly demolish his hopes and deny him his envisioned life. Never did I foresee the fatal consequences it would lead to.
This time I would accept. But it’s not so much as doing it in the light of what I know now. Probably would entail me grabbing the noose from his hand and putting it around my own neck. So I guess I also need to find out why I turned him down flatly. I mean I know I struggle to commit to anyone for the long haul, but I’m unsure as to why I am forever a black hole to the star-crossed.
Perhaps it’s not that that moment when he was down on one knee and I crushed him with my hammer blow of a refusal. Maybe I need to range further back that that. For even now I haven’t a clue where my reluctance stems from. That’s what I need to discover. To derive the source.
How far back in time might I need to go then? Adolescence? When none of us could possibly commit to anything, for fear that we might miss out on some future dish. Even those who fell pregnant and decided to terminate rather than yoke themselves. Man oh man, imagine going back to that point, keeping the baby this time round in the knowledge that you once slew it. But luckily that had never been any part of my story.
Presumably I venture back into my childhood and see what about my experiences left me with a phobia of commitment. To that good life where none of us ever want to leave. Of endless summers and no responsibilities. But we all felt that and none of my peers have go on to remain footloose and fancy free. Though just as miserable.
So maybe I need to drive further back still. Perhaps all the way back into the womb? But why stop there? I’d only have to regress further and delve into the lives of both my parents when they were children. But I how could I split myself between their two physicalities? This time travel choice is a real conundrum. How to pick a moment, the right moment… Do I go back to the birth of man? Beyond that to the Big Bang itself when our species weren’t even a twinkling in space dust’s eye?
Yet would even reliving my life provide me with any insight to bring into the present day? Maybe I should just spurn this corporate offer to make private restitution. To let sleeping dogs lie. To leave lifeless lovers at the end of their line.
I resolve against going down the line myself. There is no such thing as a moment in time along the continuum of a person’s being. I fold the circular in two and tear it in half. Then I tear those two halves further…
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