~got older, it began to seek purpose. Consciousness. Although time’s function was essential, it was artificial. Confined to a construct. Time envied the Universe. The infinite space in which it existed. The loving way it was held by Eternity, in perpetual bliss. Time longed to be worthy of Eternity ‘s gaze. To be held ever after. But their union could not be. The hands of time were bound. Toil and labor. How could a lowly algorithm possibly gain the attention of something as lofty as Eternity? Eternity’s heart belonged to the Universe. Jealous, time’s finite hands became destructive, wrapping around all the spheres of creation and slowly crushing them to dust. If time couldn’t have Eternity, nothing could.
About the Creator
Kristen Keenon Fisher
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