Paused on Repeat.

The man was hell bent on stopping time.

He gazed at his broken watch, the micky mouse ears ripped into fours and the glass poking at the poor cartoon’s eyes. He smiled happily, knowing he’ll never be late to sleeping again.

He looked towards the black curtains, where he could see some sun light peeking out between the gaps. He frowned – that wouldn’t do at all – and was quick to take some heavy-duty duct tape out from his drawers. Later (though he could not tell you by how much), he smiled contently at the blocked-out window and excessive tape, knowing he’ll never be late to waking up again.

He walked to the kitchen, and his frown returned, gazing at the microwave and its flashing numbers. The digits didn’t last long under the force of his 3 tonged fork, the class cracking in a satisfying crunch. And even though when he opened the microwave door, and the light inside didn’t turn on, he still smiled – knowing he’ll never be late to breakfast again.

When he took his cold breakfast to the living room, he turned on the tv and sat contently on the couch. When the morning news came on, he was quick to throw said remote into the middle of the black screen. When erratic colours shattered from within, he sighed in content and sank down into his leather couch, knowing he’ll never be late to his morning shows again.

When the clock tower on his street corner rang like a pestering neighbour, he rushed to his balcony and threw his cold un-eaten toast and ceramic plate as far as he could into the general direction of the offending nuisance. It was a clear miss, he grumbled – however the clock stopped its ringing and he conceded to try again when it decided to clang again.

Down below, a low grumbling caught his attention, and he witnessed a heavy truck slowly wheeled forward – picking up bins and bags from the sidewalk. He wanted to shout in anger, however instead just dropped his broken tv from the balcony once the vehicle was close enough. He was quick to close the curtains afterwards, and when the duct tape finally settled, his anger was swept away, knowing he’ll never be late to garbage-pick up again.

A flap opening diverted his eyes and he saw papers drop from his mail slot. Racing as fast as his long legs could take him, his handy duct tape served him another round as he layered the material over the open wound. He could have laughed, knowing he’ll never be late to pay another bill again.

He looked down at the papers that lay scattered on the floor, and his smile widened at one envelope. As he sat down and opened it up with delicate rips, he gazed lovingly at the photo he had gotten processed two sleeps prior. They stood to him the best day of his life, the night before his wedding. He would never understand how it had ended so horribly, with the love of his life screaming out a prayer for the Lord to forgive her for killing him.

He, after all, was never even late to the wedding, as she had accused him of. He was never late to anything, and it was something he took pride in. He smiled down at his forgotten memories, knowing he’ll never be late to living again.