- And Time Stood Still

With a snuffle of contentment, the small creature stretched, yawned, and then, curling snugly once more, fell into a fitful sleep.1

The rhythmic sound of its dark little world was comforting, but there were other sounds too; sudden rumbling and movement that swayed the tiny body from side to side. Sometimes the world was lit by a vague red light, but mostly it sought reassurance from the more familiar darkness into which it burrowed.2

Its time was spent between intermittent sleep and periods of vague consciousness, when it invariably stretched, and felt, in its blind helplessness, for the soft walls of cocoon in which it rested. Its sleep was often disturbed by strange noises from a world beyond its own. Muffled as they were, some penetrated harshly through the walls, causing it to jerk and jump awkwardly, flaying its tiny limbs in alarm, but then, as the noise subsided, it would sink back into a warm dreamless sleep.3

Time was immediate; a plateau of smooth circular motion with no undulating dimly lit ripples of yesterday. The light was now, the future in darkness. Not that the creature was aware of the existence of time, and even if it were, it would be of no importance. This was not its time - that had yet to come.4

There was something strange. The familiar rhythm had increased in tempo, until it raged in a pounding beat and swirled wildly around the tiny world; rumbling became torrents of sound and violent movement. Slowly, noise and movement abated, leaving a gentle, almost indiscernible, rhythmic beat.5

The creature curled once again and started to drift into the comfortable darkness of sleep. Suddenly there were bright lights, harsh sounds and the unfamiliar shock of cold, infinite space. Its arms stretched and reached out as it was propelled upwards towards the penetrating pain of light. Its legs kicked against terrifying nothingness.6

For the first time in its existence it knew fear and with the fear came a terrible knowledge. Frantically it reached into the void and, opening its mouth, it cried. Where once it found comfort in darkness, it now fought against the blackness descending towards it. Even as it protested its existence, its time began and ended.7

**********8

The nightmare was so real. She awoke sweating and crying. As she opened her eyes, the first thing she saw was the clock on the wall. The hands hadn’t moved, they showed the same time as they had before she’d left to go – to go -. Abruptly she shut it out from her mind and glared at the clock in irrational indignation. You’d think in a private clinic everything would be working properly. Everything else had worked! The passage of time hadn’t mattered then, nothing was too late. She closed her eyes and started to scream.9

A nurse hurried over to her bedside,10

“Hush now. It’s all right, it’s all over.” The tone was professionally soothing, “There’s nothing to worry about, and the operation was successful.”11