He sat there at his cubicle, typing away at his computer, his fingers clicking away at the keyboard, one after the other. He paused momentarily, and heard the clicking sounds of the others around him as they underwent the same process. No one said a word.
He glanced up at the clock above him, watching the big hand tick slowly, one second after another. He sighed and turned back to the computer. His hands continued back and forth, mechanically, as if he had become an extension of the computer itself.
That was the fear these days. What if you were now a part of technology and it was impossible to avoid it?
He continued on, feeling his eyes beginning to crumble as he tired, his fingers beginning to ache from the continuous actions.
He again took a look at the clock. To his dismay only seconds had passed since his last peek at the time counter.
Suddenly he felt himself laugh at the irony. How ironic it was to want time to go by as quickly as possible. Was the essence of life not to live every minute to the fullest?
He continued back at his desk, taking a sip from his cold, bland coffee, no longer feeling its effects. He had long since become immune to its effects. No longer did it keep him awake. It had simply become something to drink, as a way to pass the time.
He paused momentarily, ceasing the typing, as if lost in a trance. Why was he even doing this? Did he even know why he was working here? What was he living for?
These were difficult questions, questions he had no answers for. This frustrated him.
He lost control suddenly, slamming his hands against the desk. He got up from his desk, looking around the room at the other robotic men and women seated at their desks clicking away. No one looked his way.
I can’t do this anymore, he thought. Without another thought he departed his cubicle and strode towards the door. No one paid him any thought. Only the manager watched him as he exited out the door, smiling as if knowing that he was quitting his job and was thus simultaneously thanking him for his service.
He exited out the door, rode the elevator down along with three other men who stood motionless, hands by their sides. Finally he reached the lobby and then exited out the main door feeling the fresh air enter his lungs.
He suddenly felt free, as if he had never lived before and had only just been born. He had no idea what he was going to do, where he was to go, but he didn’t care. He finally felt like a burden had been lifted from his chest.
He stood by the edge of the road and watched the zoom of cars as they passed by. He flagged down a taxi and entered inside.
“Where to?”
He had no idea. Where should he go? He hadn’t thought that far ahead.
“Train station”, he blurted out.
He had no idea why he said that, but he didn’t care. So be it. The driver nodded and accelerated away.
He looked forward into the front seat of the taxi, watching the clock on the dash board. He watched the minutes increase as the drive went on. Above the clock was the taxi tab counter. He found it surprising that the cost of the taxi ride increased so much quicker than the clock. Did they not say that time was more valuable than anything else? He no longer knew.
Finally, they reached the destination. He paid the driver and tipped him generously before exciting out the door and hurrying inside the train station.
As he entered, he suddenly felt overwhelmed by the sheer quantity of people as they hurried back and forth. His eyes darted back and forth as he noticed the many different clocks and time zones. Why did everything involve time? Was time not a social construction?
He hurried forward to the counter, wanting to avoid the essence of clocks and time as much as possible.
“Where to?” the lady at the counter asked him.
“Um.”
Where was he going?
“Next train. Anywhere.”
The lady nodded as if she had heard that before and handed him the ticket.
He turned and ran for the gate just as it was about to close. A steward stood in front of the steps to the train and he handed him his ticket. The steward examined it tirelessly before handing it back to him.
“No luggage?” the steward asked him.
He shook his head and the steward shrugged before allowing him on board. He hurried through the halls of the train until he found the first free carriage and entered.
He sat down across a man who sat with a newspaper in his hands, shuffling the pages as he read them. The man pulled his head to the side and glanced his way momentarily before turning back to his newspaper. The man was ordinary looking and other than a bristly looking mustache, he could pass as just about anyone.
The train departed and he felt himself searching out the window as the world seemed to breeze by. He suddenly wondered if he was doing the right thing, what he was doing here on this train. It would be easier just to return back and continue back at his cubicle. The thought made him sick.
He continued to look out the window as the scenery zoomed by him. The carriage was quiet, other than the odd flip of the page from the passenger with the mustache. He gave it no thought and continued to watch as trees, shrubs, ecosystems flew by.
After an hour or two, the train finally arrived. He turned back to look back out the window noticing the blankness around him. It was cloudy and gloomy, as if a downpour were about to begin. He didn’t care.
He followed the crowd out the train and down to the station. Men and women stood around, not speaking, all on their phones or reading newspapers.
He walked down the steps following the crowd of passengers until he reached a branch in the road that led down two separate paths. He strode down the gravel path to his left, moving in the opposite direction of the other passengers and where he assumed the town was. He turned back around to look at the other passengers. No one paid him any thought.
He turned back around and continued down the path, not really sure where it would lead, but at this point he no longer cared.
After what he thought were a few minutes, he reached the end of the path which curved into the edge of a cliff. Just below was a lake, the water static and unmoving. He looked down into the depths below, not seeing anything but clear water. He suddenly wished he could have the ability to become a body of water, to sit there without worries of any sort, to just sit there in peace.
He sat down along the edge of the lake, feeling the calm air and the lake ease his body, as if providing him with Zen. He felt the urge to fall in and let the water consume him, but decided against it. He couldn’t give in.
He suddenly considered what time it was, but he had no idea. Nevertheless, he felt the seconds tick by one after the other. He could not escape time. It followed him everywhere.
After a while, he felt like he had been there for hours though there was no way of knowing. He allowed himself to care of nothing, just be at peace watching the water below him, allowing the fresh air to enter his lungs.
Suddenly he felt the raindrops begin to fall, first with a slow dripping as if from a leaky faucet and then with the escalation into a downpour.
The rain began penetrating his body, soaking his shirt and jeans and chilling him to the core. But he didn’t care. He no longer cared about anything. He was at peace. He had escaped all that it was he had longed to escape and nothing could destroy that feeling.
He threw up his hands in the air, as if thanking the freezing rain for coming down on him. He no longer cared. The seconds no longer ticked. Time ceased to exist. He was finally free.
