“The days were like bricks; the months and years were large blocks of invisible stone, neverchanging and as solid as could be. He could feel the walls that time built behind him, separating him from once dear friends and leaving only the tiniest gaps, which he called memories.
He knew that with every single step forward, he could not go back anymore. Time, after all, doesn’t go backwards – it flows and flows with no mercy for anything left behind. Time flows indifferently to awareness, and yet he could feel it towering over his shoulders ever so presently. No going back. No trips to the past except in his mind. Time was cruel, he thought; its counterpart, the future, gracefully floating all around him, was much more gentle, but he couldn’t grasp at it the way he could feel the past hit him once he stopped moving. That was the secret, wasn’t it? If time was only moving forward and wouldn’t stop, the only thing to do was being faster. Picking the right path before the huge wall blocked it. Dealing with the agony in being able to look back but never reaching behind it.
Time was a bastard, and an unforgiving one. And most of the time he didn’t mind it, except when he tripped and fell and encountered its harsh reality once it caught up with him. He then carelessly disposed of any watches and clocks he had at home. Let it be completely invisible, then – time already controlled him enough without using any numbers. Numbers only made it feel more real, as if the constant reminders of its power weren’t enough.
He focused, instead, on watching the sun. The sun had its time measured in billions of years, and for some reason that made him feel better.”