TIME


The hot, arid air whipped across Julian’s face. Confused, he wondered how he had gotten there. Arms outstretched like a mummy, he took a couple of steps around him, trying to clear away the compressed brown fog that hovered inches away from his face. Once the fog had moved, Julian’s jaw dropped as he squinted out into the clearing.


To his left was a sign that said “Welcome to TIME” and beyond that was what looked like a city. There were houses that looked like igloos made out of dark brown clay lined up in columns and
rows. Each dwelling had its own pole with a flag swaying without effort in the fierce winds. There were no streets but a single pathway in the middle of the houses where a line of people were walking in unison in the same direction. In the far distance Julian saw another clay igloo, although this one was much larger than the others and had spiraling turrets and a gaping rectangle cut out in the front. Illuminated by the dense, dark grey clouds perched in-between the turrets, it looked like a daunting palace.  The people were walking single-file through the opening.


“Excuse me sir, but may I help you find your way?” said a smiling little old man, standing next to the welcome sign. He was wearing a ragged light-brown tweed suit, the material frayed on his sleeves and the bottom of his pants. Did he just appear there from nowhere?


“Yes, please. Where am I?” questioned Julian.


“Where are you?” the little old man chuckled, “why, you are in time, where the destination of your afterlife is chosen for you. Where else would you be?”


By: Sarah Cohen, 2007