The Man Who Caught Time, short story by Martin Cid

The Man Who Caught Time, short story by Martin Cid

Who’s the man with a key and a clock who lost his time?

Taqi al-Din invented a mechanical "observ...

Taqi al-Din invented a mechanical “observational clock” with three dials for the hours, minutes and seconds. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

There was a time for idols and a time when gods walked near Mankind, when we found heroes, when we remembered the Lost Paradise story, when we chose to forget instead of losing.

‘Close the door,’ said the voice inside.

Someone is playing an old piano song, someone who forgot its face at the other side of the mirror, someone who tried to catch time in his heart, far away from this world.

‘Do you still remember her?’

Of course he does, of course he could still remember those closed lips, her death countenance, her silences and her final silence when she said a simple sentence that destroyed everything.

‘I must go’… and he spent hours trying to find the way to catch time. Who might you go back? How might we invert the other side of the mirror?

‘I beg your pardon, you cannot change time. How could you do that?’

When he was a child he found a little box with a key and an old clock. What was it for?

‘I have it right here, Alfred. And I have still that key with its clock. In all these years, the clock never stops and I always knew that the clock and the key belonged to you. The piano man is hitting the black key in D minor. Do you want to use the key, old man?

‘Have I got any option?’

May a man double the clockwise? Can you, dear reader, invert the position between minutes and feelings? It’s time now, my friend, it’s time to find a solution to my eternal problem.

‘When did she leave you?’

It happened one afternoon like many afternoons. Nothing special, nothing real. The time stopped on 26th of June of the year 1. She opened her eyes and she looked at me like a murderer.

‘I must go.’

And the clockwise doubled themselves suddenly and time, always time, stopped forever.

‘It’s time now’.

And The Man Who Catched Time opened the clock and fixed its hands and, magically, the clock continues working, counting again the minutes and the hours, again living a life he never forgot.

‘Time to forgive, time to leave, time to live.”

In a pale puff of 0.123434 seconds, time lived again and again.

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View Comments (4)
  • what a neat piece! reminds me of a little piece i did some time ago – “we both knew there’d come a time when i would go away – when i could not stay” etc – i particularly related to this little story on many levels – and that’s the thing of good writing – others relate to it as if it were them being written about –

    and of time, literal time – i do not own a clock or a watch – and haven’t since i was 16 years old and realized that the constant reminders of time – the ticktock passage of time – was not something i wanted to be measured or reminded of in my own life – and so, today still i do not own a time piece – and because i do not wish to be constantly reminded of “time” [we are surrounded by those reminders in every aspect of our lives: computer screen/car clock/microwave oven/street corner clocks/cook stoves/tvs/cell phones/everywhere], i hide these little digital measurements/numbers with tape or ink or whatever – so, that’s just me – but i do truly believe/know that we – our lives – are impacted by our surroundings – and time is not something of which i wish to be constantly reminded – now, that doesn’t mean that i’m late to appointments or a rendezvous or any other event – all my life i’ve been able to “tell myself” what time i wish to wake, for example, and i will wake within seconds of that time – never fails – sorry – i digress – back to the piece – always intriguing reading over here, sir!

    • Hello, hello, madam. Thank you very much and… you don’t use watch?!!!! Oh, my God. I know you were good but… now I am sure you are a wise (gypsy) woman too. Is your piece published? I would like to read it. I am going to tell you something but shhh, don’t tell anybody. My dear siren -it’s a novel I am writing- is about time. When I have first chapters finished, maybe… I don’t know how to publish it yet. Publishers and agents are so so so so so so slow. They take even two years to publish a book. Two years! But I think the novel is really good. It’s a philosophical reflection about fear, maternity myths and, overall, the time. My dear siren, hehe. I don’t have a title but… well, I don’t know. Let me read the piece if you have time. Thanks!

      • g’morning! oh, the little piece i mention above is a poem about the ending of the relationship i was in at the time – and i’ll send it to you via email – i did another little short poem on time that i happened to write on the day of the big earthquake in virginia – i was sitting at the park playground with my two little ones when i wrote it and all at the same time as the EQ was happening in virginia [although unknown to me] – will send it along as well – just a little quirky piece but interesting in light of the EQ event – your novel sounds fantastic and i can’t wait to hear more about it! and if not today, then very soon, i want to mention the thing of publishing to you and what i think – am out and about a bit today and this weekend – ya’ll have a beautiful day there – more later –

  • Pingback: Short Story. Alice through Photography: Davide Luciano Photography by Martin Cid - Yareah Magazine. Arts and writing | Yareah Magazine. Arts and writing()

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