"Whoever has something in hand will be given more, and whoever has nothing will be deprived of even the little they have."
Time. Birthing childhood, adolesence, adulthood; scenes linear in the past progressions. Order catergorizing voiding space, from nothingness. Overabundance casts the mind lazily adrift; murderous and wasteful. Underabundance imparts yearning for an impossible reversal of course; skirting the outer reach of death's grip. Destined, unavoidable destination of a long journey. Chaos defines the future; potentials far out of normal sight. An ebb and flow claiming victims, victimizing temperal certainty. Patients, from the present moment, though burdened, topically easing the burning anguish of it; sadly, never a cure. Overcome, they too exstinguish in the flowing sands. Ponder. Burn brightly for longer? Times. Eternal, and unmoving; a constant defining one's birthright. Symbolized by man's standards, philosophies; multiplied by the factor of unknown. Grasp. Control. X marks the spot; past, present, future. Once born rich with time; all I own is my birthright...
A second hand voice, stepping in time with curiousity, reappears from inbetween the passing minutes of the world outside.
"It won't be much longer now. We were going to leave town at the end of the month but they convinced us to stay for a couple more weeks. At least we can stay for Halloween and in a few weeks, we'll have a free ride back east. Better to travel in a car than be on a bus for a couple of days right? What are you looking at?"
Paste. Flash. ...first few steps in a new city. Got a place to crash till I get settled. Its a decent sized, two bedroom apartment. Kitchen right at the entrance. A quick walk through. Livingroom, not a bad looking couch, comfy. "I guess this is my bed." Bathroom. Jim's room down the hall, this is Greg's. Peek my head in. Something catches the eye. "Hey, what's this?" A framed photograph of the World Trade Towers, rising up from the ground; sitting on his nightstand. "When were you in New York? Hahaha. So I guess you took this sometime before 9/11 happened." A Grouping of words, more precisely a quotation, are written underneath. "What's this suppose to mean? Oh! It's a quote from Nostradamus... one of the quatrains predicting the destruction of the towers. Really? Huh, that's pretty neat. I've never seen that before." Nostradamus? Wasn't he some sort of a poet? I think I've heard of him...
"I remember that place, it was right by the mall. I almost forgot about that picture, he was supposedly some sort of prophet. Its funny you were thinking about our first few days here, hahaha, because we're back on his couch in a different apartment waiting to leave. You know, Greg does have a computer with internet, I can look up some more information on that Nostradamus character if you want? Though I am a little curious as to why all the sudden interest in a dead guy?"
Ponder. "Hmmm, Fervour and answers, clarity singing out; a long distance call humour to curiousity. Death to the caged lion."
"Fair enough, but now you have to do something for me. Currently, we've got a game of blackjack going on with Greg and, ugggh, his "girlfriend." I really don't like this girl. She is the embodiment of pure greed. Anyways, its all just for fun. Just killing time messing around with some cards. We're only gambling with fake money. Hahaha! Show me what you can do! You owe me this. Just this one time, I promise."
Sigh. "Slippery downward slope; testing faith with poor fortunes."
From the blink of an eye, a timid voice gives rise to fortune, as peered through a glassless window. Time begins to move.
"Nolan, you have thirteen showing. Remember if you get a face card, you bust. What do you want to do?" asked the dealer.
Pause. Reflective. "I'll take another card." we reply.
"Are you sure?" he asks again.
"Hit me!" we say with uttmost confidence.
"An eight. TWENTY-ONE! Nice play Nolan!" rallies the dealer.
"That was my eight! That eight was suppose to be mine!" whines the girl.
Time stops. A voice retreats back from the edge of the everyday norm.
"It was nice to see you out there again. You can't stay hidden in this place forever you know. See, what did I tell you about that girl. Horrible right? You know, this is an oil city, there are casinos everywhere. A little extra money couldn't hurt?"
Impatience. "Never, never." Tsk. Tsk. Tsk.
"Alright, alright... I just thought that I would ask. What good is it to have a gift if you are never going to use it? Answer me that."
Release. Flash. ...the animals can first sense the impending danger. Everyone of them can smell what is about to happen on the wind. Each of them, overwhelmed by what the earth is telling their instinctual senses; no matter how dulled they have become. Birds, frightened, take to flight in droves; a quick escape. While the rest of the city, becomes aloud with the ruckus of their domesticated voices, pleading with their masters in unison; howls and whimpers, chatters maddened by the danger. The lights begin to flicker, computers, cellphones, radios, televisions all become distorted, flushed with static and then blink out completely. Cars, trucks, buses, roll to a dead stop. Then silence. The curious, step out from their homes, businesses into an eirie quiet. Peering upward, the sun flickers and then there is a renewed sense of warmth from it, pleasant even. A man on the street looks down at his dial watch, the hands slowly begin spinning out of control. His clothes feel a little heavier. There is now an effort to stand upright. The change in his pockets, have what seems like, doubled in weight. His wrist, begins to tug on the rest his body, pointing it down towards the ground. In this, he is not the only one. Others, pedestrians, passengers, each begin to feel their weight slowing pushing, then crushing down on them. Everything and anything metal, shimmies, magnifies the burden. Held fast, there is no way to run away. A streetlight creaks and vibrates, as the pull begins to arch it towards the ground with a crash. Then another. The air has become heavy and thick; the sun's heat, now uncomfortable. People try to scream out, part in fear, part with confusion, all in pain with difficulty from the exertion. The sun now appears brighter to the eye, as if it were being magnified from a hidden glass in the sky. Panning outward, from a distance one can see that the whole city has become like this. Perfectly encircled; contained. Flash. Covered in a white blinding light, nearly instantaneous. The sound of an entire city screaming out and of silence almost in the same few seconds. Then nothing. Normalicy is returned to the city. All that is left is a perfectly shaped circle of molten rock and metal, charred unto the earth; nothing stands. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust...
"WHOA!, WHAT TH-...?? GONE!! All gone. Just like that... Nooo... This is a old memory?? B-but it hasn't happened yet right? What the hell does all this mean???
Reflective sorrow. "Time and sand; ending grains slipped from their hands."
