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On the day Mark quit his job, he destroyed all his clocks.

He smashed their faces, ripped off their hands then threw the bodies away. He took his watch and stamped it into the ground. He broke every clock in his house until there was no Time.

And it was then, when he had lost Time, when he had destroyed Time, that he finally had time. It was never time to do something, time to go some place; only the absence of time to enjoy Time. The manacles of Time were lifted from him.

Until of course, his Time came.
©2007-2009 ~conorschildchild
:iconconorschildchild:

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blahblahblahsomethingpretentious

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:icondancing-naked:
It was never time to do something, time to go some place; only the absence of time to enjoy Time. The manacles of Time were lifted from him.

Until of course, his Time came.


Ew.

the rest is a lovely
:iconconorschildchild:
Yeah, I'm having a problem with the endings. I keep getting ideas then planning out a longer story :(

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lol, writing lol
:icondancing-naked:
:B Then write the long stories silly, stop placing so many limits on your self who cares what month it is
:iconconorschildchild:
I'm doing that too =P

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lol, writing lol

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November 7, 2007
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