At first you wonder what’s going on, standing there, living
within the utter silence, with everything and everyone static for 12 minutes.
At first you just stop, looking in disbelief, then, after the second time it
happens, that disbelief starts to turn into whatever you like.
It started six months ago, while walking through the streets
of this great big metropolis, minding my own business when everything around
me, literally, stopped. Cars, buses, dogs, cats, even pigeons, everything and
everyone just froze. I recall eating popcorn, when it first happened, as I
watched a couple of them fall only to stop a few inches away from the floor. It
took me awhile to realise but I might just be the only person that this doesn't
happen to.
After the fear fell away, descending into playful mischief,
I’d started to re-arrange scenes but that was before someone died due to my
meddling. Life has a force, a speed, which cannot be stopped. Or so I believed.
Wind up a toy car, set it in place, then let go to see a great big thrust of
life speed things back into action. Each change that I made had consequences,
so after that death, I decided not to change anything unless it seemed
reasonable.
In each of the 12 minutes I’d managed to gather as much
money as possible, any possessions I liked, leading to life becoming a little
bit stale. Imagine having the opportunity to own whatever you liked. Sure, it
was stealing, but in the great scheme of things, the way things worked, we were
all being short changed anyway. Anything and everything, for those 12 minutes
within a day, were available and readily within reach.
Once, on my daily travels, I actually decided to stop a bank
robbery. It was easy. Just wait, then on the dot, as the time approached, I’d
just nip in and remove all of the weapons and drag each of them outside. Quite
a bit of work depending on the size of the person but it was fun seeing their
faces once the time elapsed.
12 minutes. Madness. Fun. Sometimes exciting, often
strikingly cold and empty, but it carried on happening day after day. I recall
visiting my family, the ‘olds’ as they liked to refer to themselves. They were
still so young but, once the time arrived, I’d sit there just looking at them,
burning their image into my mind as I knew that, one day, they’d leave this
place. 12 whole minutes of calm and remembrance. Anything they wanted, they
had, without question, but with limits. Although 12 minutes wasn't the longest
time, I made sure that each item wouldn't be missed. It was one thing to be
able to do whatever I liked but, eventually, someone, somewhere, might just
notice.
I’d listen, wait, and then travel to a location where crime
ran free. They wouldn't miss their cash, or guns, and they wouldn't come looking
that far in fear of questions. They usually turned on each other but that was
away from any conscience I had.
I realised, after a while, that if I walked up to an item,
once everything stood still, I could usually get it to continue. It took
concentration and effort, but eventually I’d get there. I knew, however, not to
drive a car until after the time elapsed. That could get tricky smashing
straight into a stopped car.
Everything became normal, very normal, as with many things
in life. I’d see devastation in some of the buildings I’d visit, looked into the
eyes of stone vapid killers, then take every single scrap of cash they’d taken
from others. I’d leave gifts for people that didn't seem to have much in life,
but with many things it was the individual day that decided what I’d do.
Many would think that I'm being calm but, you would be to,
because losing my mind just wouldn't work with the situation I'm in. I want to
stay alive, I need to keep on living and although I'm on my own in all of this,
I’d going to find help on this very day. There’s a couple of people that I
think can help so the time is now. After all, although I've come to terms with
things, although I know that this may never stop, I'm okay with the way things
are, or were, until the day that I saw them everywhere. Then, as the 12 minutes
arrived, they moved.
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