Chronophobia.

Whoever it is, they are late!

And for the tenth time in an hour, she questioned the wisdom in setting up this meeting. She changed her cushions for a third time and sat sipping on her second cup of tea. She pulled out her phone to make new plans. The night was still young and there was more she could do with her youth than sit by and watch life pass her by. This is the thought that kept her awake at night and stopped her from making long-term commitments. The logic behind this was simple; if she was committed to something she couldn't do it all. And more than anything she wanted to do it all before the clock chimed on her life.

The knock on her door sounded like a secret code; two short taps, one loud one and crowned off by three short taps. The thought in her head was that it was a weird way to knock and she hoped she hadn't invited a serial killer to her house for tea.

'You are not the person I was expecting,' she said to the figure standing outside her door. And he definitely wasn't who she was expecting. She was waiting on one of those mobile therapists. She had filled in a bunch of answers online and had been told one would be with her, today. He just didn't look like what she expected a therapist to look like with his gray beard that was tucked into his waist belt, an hourglass and a scythe.

Common sense reminded her to verify his identity.

'Who exactly are you?'

'Your worst nightmare,' he answered in a gruff voice and pushed his way through the door. Not violently but authoritatively. Like he had more right to be in her house than she did. She watched him from the door as he changed her cushions and made himself well at home.

'This is not funny. And I don't know who sent you here but I'd rather you leave. Before I call the police.' Was she supposed to shut the door behind her when there was a strange man in the house. But her phone was on the couch where the stranger had made himself comfortable. He seemed to notice that and smiled back at her.

'It would be a shame if the police came over, considering you invited me here.' He picked out the raisins in her cookies and bit into them.

'I didn't...'

'According to the answers you filled in, you said you wanted help facing your fears and here I am. Your fear in the flesh.'

'I'm scared of heights like every rational human and need it fixed for the hiking trip I'm supposed to take. But strangers and being kidnapped are becoming a close second.' she snarled and he laughed.

'I've watched you for a while...'

'And that's not creepy at all,' she mumbled, interrupting him. He ignored her.

'...and you are more scared of time, the uncertain future, time running out,' he paused, 'death. And who better to walk you through that fear than Father Time himself.'

'I am not scared of time,' she said softly and slowly, as though she was talking to a little child, 'Father Time is a myth and why would you be Father Time when you are an hour late to a meeting.' She figured this was a delusional old man and there was no harm in interracting him.

'Who says I'm late? Maybe I'm proving a point. How you can't comfortably sit in the silence because you are working against unseen deadlines. Come child, sit, let's have a chat about time.'