A Temporal Muse.

All my life I’ve lived with an overview. When I was a child, I recognised the old man who was somewhere beyond the horizon. And now that I can see him, I recognise the child who dreamt dreams of future adventures. But maybe there is no past and no future. Maybe they’re just pieces of the same picture. Maybe all our yesterdays and all our tomorrows exist together in the same timeless moment. And maybe we can trip lightly from one piece of the picture to the other as suits our will and our whim, if only we knew how. Maybe we can face down the tyrant Time and he will disappear.

But then we’d be trapped, wouldn’t we? Would we? Maybe the old man will tell me when I reach him. Maybe he will show me how to turn memories into now. But only if I want to, and maybe I won’t.