When all the clocks stop- part 1

He leaned on the rails of the balcony, looking at the winking yellow, blue and red city lights. in the already familiar feeling of a peaceful exhaustion that has accompanied him since forever,- or so it seemed to him anyway. As he watched people hurrying about to their houses or out to new year's eve dinner parties in the streets below, he couldn't help but find it rather silly, he had already given up on celebrating anything, he chuckled to himself in a dry amusement. To him it was rather foolish how important time was, how people rushed here and there and worried that they won't have enough time; alas he could understand them, after all they were bound by time's shackles, so it is only natural for them to fuss about it like so. He hummed to himself, how lovely it is to be him; he felt very lucky, for unlike everyone else he had all the time in the world to do as he pleased! Although there wasn't much he wanted to do,- he liked knowing that if he were to want to do something, he could do it without worrying that he won't have enough time.

He took a bite from his avocado sandwich and wrapped his bathrobe tighter around himself for protection against the chilly night breeze of London, as he looked in front of him recognizing the big Ben in the distance. Almost instinctively his eyes averted to the clock, - a habit that he has developed ever since - it's one hand moving a bit every minute and it's other remaining almost still for the most part. Whenever he saw a clock he couldn't help but look at it intently and drown in the swirl of the seconds and minutes and hours for ages, it was like a sort of strange addiction for him, once he spent a full day staring at a clock, he didn't mind it however, for he had all the time in the world to waste. Although it did trouble him ever so lightly for he never quite knew why clocks fascinated him so much; perhaps it was because these clocks could answer the troubling question which often kept him awake at night? Or rather, was it a fear of these clocks that kept him staring into them in anticipation?

Suddenly he blinked and shook his head, he was sure that he spent at least 15 minutes staring at the clock like a fool. However why wasn't the hand that pointed to the minutes moving at all? Had he really lost his notion of time and went so astray he can't even tell minutes apart from seconds? A bit confused, he decided to count ten minutes and see if there was any change; one... Two... Three... Four... As the seconds he counted passed by he felt more and more foolish. Until, when he reached about 9 minutes, he noticed that indeed the clock wasn't moving! A new rush of adrenaline suddenly rushed through him, the last time this happened was 4 years ago! Isn't it a bit early for it to happen again? He thought, confused yet excited. Throughout the years everything was consistent and boring, however on certain special occasions like this the boredom disappeared for a while. He didn't remember how many years it was before it occurred for the first time, however he remembers the first time clearly. All the clocks stopped, the big church clock too. He remembered everyone being curious yet afraid at the same time, they had believed they were cursed and started to fuss about it. Utter chaos was rampaging about the town. He remembers how he suddenly found himself in what he liked to call "the gate": a dark peaceful glowing mysterious blue of nothingness, with small round portals to different points in time scattered about the void of nothingness. He remembered hopping into the nearest portal and finding himself surrounded by volcanoes everywhere, he was still getting used to having all the time in the world, the forgot that he couldn't die and started panicking, however then he found himself in that same void of nothingness once more. It took him a couple of tries, but eventually he understood how to operate; every portal is a point in time, any point in time, and he can decide what point in time he wants to go to by simply thinking about it. And to return to the gate he simply had to think about the gate. He thought this was a lovely discovery, however he soon found out that he can only reach the gate every couple of years, when the clocks stop; for whenever the clocks stopped, time itself stopped, and instead began a period of 24 hours where time ceased to exist therefore for some reason, (perhaps the very same reason he isn't bound by time) he can travel between any point in time, alas the moment time returned he would return back to where he was before time stopped and all that happened within those 24 hours would be forgotten by all but him.

He rushed to dress up before closing his eys and opening them to find himself in the gate. He smiled and hopped into the nearest portal, the word dinosaur clear in his mind. A moment later he opened his eyes, a magnificent starry night of which he couldn't see in London greeted him warmly, along with a light warm breeze. He heard insects buzzing in the forest, and a dinosaur calling out to it's fellow dinosaurs in the distance. With some difficulty he plucked a big leaf off a bush and proceeded to climb a tree and tie the leaf like a hammock around it's branches. He leaned back and closed his eyes, listening to the peaceful sounds of nature; he always love going to the dinosaur era, no matter how many time he's been there he's never gotten bored of it.

He let his thoughts run through as he relaxed, swinging his legs here and there. It was funny for he thought the more he lived the more thoughts he'd have; alas he'd come to realize that the more he lived the less thoughts he had. He had developed a sort of numbness to everything and everyone. After all there was no point in creating attachments when you live forever. He looked at the twinkling stars, not knowing any of their names but not caring either way, as he wondered if perhaps in the past he used to have friends, he found that lately more often than not he wondered what he was like before... If there was anything before, for it seemed to him like he couldn't remember his life at all. Perhaps it was the years he's lived that blurred his memory, or perhaps it was his own mind ridding him of unnecessary longings. Or perhaps it was something more... He didn't know, and he wondered if he'd ever know... Alas he tried not to think about it, for he hated to admit but this was a question which secretly haunted him day and night; And although he longed for an answer to satisfy his curiousity, he dreaded it all the more. Therefore he preferred not to trouble himself with it at all if he could help it.