The victim of time

I wake up to the sound of my phone ringing. I fumble for it on the nightstand, still half asleep. It’s my best friend, Lena.

“Hey, Lena” I mumble.

“Get your lazy ass out of bed! Flea market today, remember?” she reminds me cheerfully, with her usual playful tone.

“Yeah, yeah… I’m up,” I say, jumping out of bed. The sun is already up by the time I’m finished getting ready, and I don’t want to waste another minute.

I walk around the flea market for a few minutes when something catches my eye, it’s a small, old-looking clock. It’s dusty, and the glass is slightly cracked, but it’s beautiful. The carvings on its frame just speak to me.

“How much for the clock?” I ask the seller, an old man with a kind smile.

“Just 5 dollars” he says with a shrug. “It’s been here for ages and doesn’t even work properly anymore.”

Without hesitation, I hand him the money. Days pass, and I can’t shake off the feeling that there’s something special about this clock.

One evening, while reading, I accidentally turn the clock on its side, activating some hidden button. Suddenly, the world around me freezes.

I blink, confused. Birds float motionless in the sky, and I spend the next few days in denial. There’s no way this clock can actually stop time. It has to be some kind of trick, a joke! But as I experiment more, the truth becomes undeniable. The clock can stop time, but only for a few hours with each use.

The power is addicting. I use it to catch up on work, to sleep in, or even to enjoy moments of peace in this busy world.

One day, while browsing through the shelves of my local library, I come across an old book. It’s hidden in a dark corner, almost as if someone wanted to keep it secret. The book doesn’t even have a title and my heart races as I flip through the pages, finding a chapter on an ancient timepiece.

My world feels like it collapses as I read: “Every use of this clock’s power drains a year from the user’s life.” My blood runs cold. I’ve been using the clock daily. How many years have I lost already?

I decide to press the button on the clock one last time, feeling the need to relax. Time stops, and I feel a wave of calmness wash over me. Time unstucks after some hours once more. The world moves again, but I can feel my strength fading. The room spins, and I collapse onto the floor, the weight of my actions crashing down on me.

My life flashes before my eyes—a series of moments, good and bad. And then, nothing.