Every second bleeds away the day, chipping away at months, and slowly dissolving the years as it patiently adjusts the continents slightly to the left.
You don’t even notice how much time has past, until you cut it open and count the rings and realize, to your dismay, just how many there are.
It’s as if the days blow away on that wretched wind, the one howling outside your window that rattles the siding on the house and moans as it rustles through the trees, ripping off the weaker leaves.
Eventually we are all eaten up and sent back to wherever or whatever it is we came from. Everything neatly recycled, broken down to its component parts and used again and again. Spinning endless replays played out on every size and scale from atoms to solar systems, maybe even the universe itself.
But if that scares you, you can make a god, gather your friends, burn an effigy. Just don’t be surprised when time ignores your efforts as it slides past you and leaves you behind like that damnable wind blowing through your hair.
