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Rated: E · Fiction · Writing · #1443617
The movement of time and what it's like to be captured ouside of it.
                There are times when the earth stops, yet I still move. I am able to take a good look at people. See their flaws, examine their features. Realize who they are and how their seen by others.
         Time, when analyzed, can not stop or move faster. To me, I hold the remote. I can pause, rewind, or even fast forward. I’ll slip into this space and not realize that I’ve detached myself from those around me. They no longer exist on the same plane as I do.
         Some days, time moves faster than I can blink. I observe my surroundings and all I see is the blur of human existence. I see the outline of their soul, but within their outline is but the scribble of a colored pencil. A firm edge but fuzzy inside.
         Occasionally, one being will reach the speed that I will be currently moving at. For a moment, I am not alone. We see each other in full motion, neither faster or slower than the other. I can’t help but release a rare but exited smile. I am not alone. But only for that moment.
         Then reality settles and time is altered. I once again move my own speed. Never in tune with another. It’s like standing still in the hallway of a public school. The bell rings and you blink. You stand still and the wave of students crash around you. You are the rock on the shore. Your friend is gone; blended into the mass of color, scent, and sound. All senses on alert, waiting for the time to include you again in it’s never ending advancement.
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