Oddities of Time

A Story by msebestyen

In those odd hours of in between the rushes of lunch and dinner, I was always reluctant to disturb those lingering diners, hesitant to break the spell which kept them in the restaurant long after their dirtied fork removed and their appetite suppressed.

Watching those lone customers made me anxious; they were watching me, waiting, seemingly. As I made rounds around the emptying room, their hungry eyes would follow me and I would wonder what need kept them here. Ever anxious to see what they wanted, I wandered by their tables frequently, offering the goods and services which so satisfied the other guests. But no offers could shake them from their spell; they stayed sitting, waiting for that which we could not offer.

Who were these lone diners? What way of life allowed them to pass the hours watching the world of the restaurant rather than departing to complete the next agenda item as their human counterparts did? Existence today demands that people rush from one location to another, completing tasks, never lighting on any one place too long. So how could these people have escaped the confines of time which hold our arms like an overzealous parent, always reminding us that there is a next. We must move forward.

When I run by these tables, moving on to complete my next, moving forward, I wonder what it feels like to stand still, to be caught in a singular act and suspend the moment, stretch it to last beyond, in to hours and the day. To be able to manipulate time and bend it to fit a desire is an act of magic which these people have achieved. So few of the rest of us feel there must always be that next, we forget about the now.

So without disturbing their spell, I like to let them linger, let them play with their boundaries of time. I have preoccupied myself with what is next.