6:45

The world shifted and as it did colors dissolved into each other and shapes became mangled in front of him.

Thud!

The drop had knocked the wind out of him and as he lay on his side he could hear a soft wheezing come with each breath. It hurt, and it hurt a lot.

Actually, was he in pain or was he imagining everything? wheeze… Why would anyone imagine pain, what would be the purpose of that? wheeze… So, this had to be real! wheeze … wheeze … But why would he be hurt? He shouldn’t be hurt! wheeze… wheeze…

His confusion started to recede and as it did shapes came into focus. All sorts of sensations assaulted him. He was laying on earth and it was soft. He could feel it on the tip of his fingers and what they reported back to him felt moist and smelled moist, rich. Also, the smell of crushed grass was all around him and he felt it poking and tickling him from place to place.

Wheeze…

Something hard and jagged jabbed him in his right side between what felt like his sixth and seventh rib. It hurt to focus on it so he tried as much as he could to ignore it. As best as he could.

Everything looked misty beyond the blades of grass next to his nose. Looking at them he understood the poking sensation his skin was desperately trying to convey. Each blade was covered from top to bottom in prickly fibers and as he saw this a shiver ran across his spine as if for a tenth of a moment he could feel each individual fiber pressing, pushing at him to get up.

Wheeze…

The ache on his side was slowly being drowned in the avalanche of sensations as conscious thought began surfacing. Why was he in pain? He was clearly sitting on something that caused the said pain, but why was he sitting on it and why couldn’t he get up? He tried to flex his left hand fingers. It worked, but try as he might he couldn’t move anything else. His mind felt muddled and most of his muscles felt rubbery and heavy. He was tired, but not ordinarily tired, more like dead tired. It felt as if gravity was pushing down on him and he was stranded somewhere between it and the grass, weak, helpless.

Wheeze… wheeze…

Weight became something else, something tangible, something outside the norm, as far from concept as it was notionally possible. He felt it in his brain, pressing on lucidness in a way that squeezed reality shut. It felt impossible to think clearly, to want, to be. What was he? Where was he? Why was he here? His eyelids fell shut under the pressure and he was beginning to drift away again.

His breaths were coming slower now, at regular intervals. Numbness was enveloping him caringly. Somewhere beyond his field of thought something lurched, softly, surely. It was an anxious sensation, an urgency of peril and salvation, a sort of dread. He reached out to touch it in his mind and it felt sticky, molasses like. He felt tired, so, so tired. The sensation grew and it threatened to drown him. He was being chased by something! That’s why he was here, he was running away from something. Something dark and sinister, something that wanted to devour him and his very self. He was afraid! He felt deep, deep dread!

Wheeze… wheeze…

He could open his eyes again and felt flushed. He could hear the blood pressure in his ears as his heart beat quickened. thump thump… thump thump, thump thump. He wasn’t just running away from something, he was also running towards something. Something very, very important. His whole future depended on reaching that particular something on time, his life depended on it. As the rush of adrenaline took hold he sent another signal to his muscles, seeking each way for a response. They answered! He began moving his leg, slowly, and as he did the ache in his side screamed at him once more. Deciding against it he probed his arms. His wrists worked now and he could flex his right arm.

There was something there, near the wrist, it felt heavy and cold as it slid down an inch. It talked to him, both through his eyes and ears, it was trying to tell him something, something important.

He held his breath and concentrated, bringing his hand closer to his eyes he squinted. There was a play of lights, dark green and black but the light was very dim. It was difficult for him to understand what he saw but he heard it clearly: tik…, tik…, tik…, tik … There were numbers there: six, four and five.

6:45

What did it mean?

6:45

There was a meaning behind this sequence, not in itself but as part of the concept of time and space. The numbers were important to him and only to him. His life depended on them. Not only on it but also on the sequence: Union Square, Building B, 4th floor, eight.

What did it all mean?

6:45 and Union Square, Building B, 4th floor, 8.

Suddenly a rush of adrenaline flooded his entire body as he understood.

‘FRAK!’

Ignoring the pain in his side he swiveled, allowing inertia to pull him upright. His mind screamed as reality kicked in, taking shape around him: gloomy room vaguely illuminated by a shuttered window, boxes and a trashcan in the corner, a chair and a table with a glass on top, to the left velvety neon lights green and blue and an air dispenser with fumes coming out.

He lifted his right arm and brought the watch closer: 6:46. Panic mounted as queasiness overcame him and he continued the motion by pressing his hand on his stomach. Lunging towards the trashcan he seized it and vomited. A sweet, sickly smell mixed in with the fresh scents coming from the dispenser. He vomited again, harder this time, his insides revolting against his reality, clawing to break away from him.

6:47

His ribs hurt so he pressed a finger gingerly to them, the spot was very sore. Looking at the bed he saw the pocket book pointing up from the mattress.

Frak, I hope I didn’t break it.

He got up and ran to the bathroom with the trashcan in toe.

He splashed water on his face with one hand while wrestling with the toothpaste tube with the other.

6:49

Do I have time to shower? He discarded the t-shirt he had slept in and sniffed at his armpit.

‘Frak!’

6:50

He jumped in the shower.

6:56

He dried himself off and got dressed.

7:13

The elevator panel displayed an X so he turned right and descended the stairs two steps at a time. His apartment was on the 7th floor.

Adrenaline was pumping through his body as he walked briskly towards the station. Every step brought the pressure to a boil. He felt the need to run, his muscles yearned to run, to take him as fast as they could to Union Square, Building B, 4th floor. It took every ounce of his willpower to maintain the pace: not to fast and definitely not too slow.

By the time he got to the station he was winded.

7:20

He started pacing along the track as he stuffed a protein bar in his mouth. Driblets of sweat were running behind his right ear and a vein bulged on his forehead. He could feel his heartbeat there. thump thump, thump thump.

His stomach was churning viciously so he started to speak to himself tenderly so as to break away from the feeling boiling up inside. His tone brought back glimpses of a prayer long forgotten.

Hi, my name is John Matthews. Hi! My name is John Matthews. Hi, I’m Matt. I have four years experience and I studied computer engineering. No. I haven’t worked these past 6 months. I took a sabbatical to solve some personal issues.

‘Frak, where is this train?’

7:26

The doors closed behind him with a sucking sound and he collapsed in the closest seat.

7:28

He pulled the pocked book and started to inspect it. It had a small dent in one of the corners but it still worked. His foot went tap tap tap tap.

7:30

University Station. tap tap tap tap

7:35

7:38

Memorial Bridge Station.

7:41

He got up and went to lean on one of the train car walls and put some music on.

7:43

Polytechnics University Station.

I think I’ll make it. His heart was beating pretty fast but he took a deep breath and focused. He remember the meditation practices, out through the mouth, in through the nose. Slowly his body relaxed. The music had helped, the quick notes had created a space outside out of his head where all the energy could be stored. His favorite song was playing now: Edge of Dreams by The Corporation. Suddenly the song stopped. He checked his watch and he saw that the screen had gone dark. He tried turning it on by holding down the button on its side but nothing happened. The battery must’ve ran out. Idiot! Perfect time to forget to charge your watch.

Central Park Station.

Come on, come on! It was as if the train had started to lurch forward instead of running.

Elliot Ridge Station.

Come on, one more to go!

Union Square Station. He had been holding his breath for the past minute and when the train had pulled in he let out a deep sigh of relief.

A throng of people erupted through the doors and the tide swept away the vibrant uniqueness of the station. Dodge, side step, stop, dodge. Step by step he made his way up top and towards this destination.

Union Square, Building B, 4th floor.

A pretty young woman greeted him from behind her desk, the name on the tag spelled Mary. She wore a light blue uniform and her blonde hair was pulled back revealing a small golden earing. She smiled at him warmly.

‘How may I help you, Sir?’

‘Hi! My name is John, John Matthews.’ hearing the panic in his voice he pulled himself together and swallowed. ‘Hi! I’m here to see Mr. Duane on the 4th floor. I have an interview.’

‘Just a second, Sir! Can I please have your ID card?’

‘Of course!’ As he searched for his ID, Mary had went ahead to phone up to her colleague on the 4th floor. He checked his watch and was greeted once more by the black screen. Mary had put the phone down and was smiling at him again.

‘Mr. Matthews, I’m sorry but Mr. Duane is no longer available.’

‘What? But I have an interview with him right now.’

‘What time was your interview scheduled? Maybe I can check again.’

‘At 8:00.’

‘It’s 8:27 right now, Mr. Matthews. I’m sorry!’

‘What? How?’ shock was filling him to the core ‘Could you please show me, my battery ran out.’

‘Sure!’ and she extended a slim delicate hand towards him. A flowery smell wafted towards him but it’s impression was stark as his eyes fell on the screen.

8:27

He felt the world buckle and for an instant he thought he was going to vomit again as blood rushed from his face.

‘Can I get you some water?’ she sounded concerned.

‘No! Thank you! Do you have a charging station that I could use? I need to make a call.’

‘Yes, on the table next to the chairs’ and she pointed past his right shoulder to a group of chairs and a couch.

‘Thank you, I won’t be long.’ and turned around not waiting for a reply. He staggered towards the chair she had pointed at and gingerly sat in one. The world stopped spinning long enough for him to unlatch his smartwatch. Pulling at the charging cable he realized he needn’t had done that as it was one of the new models with the wireless plug-in.

Mary set down a glass of water for him and as their eyes met she smiled. A small worried smile half a heartbeat long. Her gaze dropped and she returned reluctantly behind her desk.

8:31 his watch showed when it came back on.

8:31

……………………………………………………………….

Forty-five minutes later he was drinking a cup of coffee and playing with a coin. He was spinning it absently between his thumb and index finger. As Mike approached and sat down across from him, he greeted his friend with a blank calculating look.

‘You okay?’ Mike asked.

‘Stellar!’

‘How the frak could you be 30 minutes late to see Duane? What where you thinking?’

‘I don’t know! I thought I’d made it in time, but … I didn’t.’

‘What the frak, man! This was the most important day of your life!’

‘I know! I fraked up! I couldn’t get up! I don’t know what happened!’

‘You couldn’t get up? I don’t know how you could sleep, man!’

‘I couldn’t! I took a pill last night, I guess I didn’t hear the alarm go off.’

‘Pffffff! You should’ve told me, man! I would’ve called you, woken you up. Frak, dude!’

‘Yeah!’

‘Yeah!’ silence filled the space between them. ‘You okay? Seriously now, are you okay!’

‘I don’t know! No! I feel like I’m losing my mind. Yes! I think I’m okay. I don’t know…’ and all the tension left him. He sagged forward letting his head drop into his hands. He could feel the cold of the coin pressed against his forehead. His head felt as if it was burning. ‘I thought I made it in time.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘I thought I’d make it. I was at Poly at around 7.45 but my watch went out and I don’t know what happened.’

‘7:45? Man, Poly is 10 minutes away from Union Square, what did the train do, circle the city before it dropped you off?’

‘I don’t know, but I’m telling you, it was 7:45.’

‘Are you sure you’re okay?’

‘I don’t know. Frak this day!’ he could feel tears creep at the corner of his eyes as pain and desperation nipped at the edges of his sanity.

‘Are you still on the meds?’

‘Yeah!’ the line of questioning exasperated him. He felt as if Mike was trying to prove how much of a frakup he was. His ears started ringing from the blood flow.

‘You should lay off that crap, man. It’s not doing you any favors?’

‘What do you want me to do, Mike? Huh?! Do you think I want to take the pills? Do you think I enjoy spacing out for minutes on end or waking up in the middle of the night for God knows what reason? What alternative do I have? Being completely and utterly helpless and hopeless? At least this way I still get to function somewhat.’

‘What do you mean spacing out?’

‘I don’t know, I lose track of time. Most of the time I’m either too late or too early. I don’t know what’s happening to me. It’s like my whole rhythm has changed, like I’m swimming against the flow of time.’

‘Did you check with your doctor on that?’

‘Yes! He says he never heard of this happening to anyone else but that everyone reacts differently to the treatment. So apparently I’m the one in a billion idiot that gets to experience time distortion as a side effect.’

‘Either that or your watch is fraking with you.’ and a smile showed all of his perfect white teeth.

‘Wouldn’t that be something?’ joining Mike’s mood. ‘Watch out for the killer watch!’

‘Shush! It has a sharp tongue.’ and both started laughing.

……………………………………………………………….

A couple of hours later he was sitting on his couch listening to music. The sounds surrounded him and lulled him into a state of relaxation, spurred on by the medication.

He checked his watch and set an alarm for later that evening, just in case he dozed off. As he was drifting between realities he could hear a steady ticking somewhere in the back of his mind. Moments later it was drowned by another more hap-hazard one: tik, tik tik, tik tik, tik.

He looked at his watch. It was showing 12:02. He remembered the joke Mike had made and let his arm fall lazily. For a tinny, tinny moment his eye caught a change in the screen which his mind went ahead to reject almost immediately:

The screen had displayed the sequence: 6:45.