Echoes of Time

Time. Space. Dimensions. Questions float elusively. Tick. Tock. Time goes by. The universe
expands. All for the sake of never stopping until the balanced state everyone dreams of but
casually throw around comes. All for Eternity. Eternity for all. The promise made by Tom and
Time. Tick. Tock.

Another hummingbird woke Tom up. Getting older did not always mean being better off. It
meant being mature and responsible and all the boring adult-like things. That fateful day,
however, Tom woke up feeling as though he had aged another twenty years and when he
looked at the mirror, he could see the wrinkles of time. Waking up. It seemed as if only a day
had passed, so why could he not recognize himself.

“How?” he pondered out loud. Behind, his mother appeared, crying in ecstasy, in joy?
Another human face. Multiple people came behind crowding near him. His dad, his brother,
his sister, a small five-year-old kid. Tom was dazed, he slumped back down in the chair.

All the faces, familiar and unfamiliar showed eyes of happiness. Then his brother told the
child to go and call someone.

Medics? Tom was confused, he had merely gotten up. Why was everyone crying? Why was
everyone so happy? Why did they need to call for medics? What was the point?

Questions floated elusively. Daffodils dwindled by.

He felt strangely unlike himself. As if his body was not the match for his soul.

The scent of honeysuckle and pine wafted into the room. Memories came flooding back, rock
and snow that were juxtaposing. A crash that destroyed. A pain that made him grit his teeth. A
perfect soul that gave him pleasure. A broken body that limited him. The scent of medicine in
the corridors. Then finally, a sleep. For what seemed an eternity.

“Mum, what exactly happened?”, he whispered. He felt cornered and afraid of the big world.

“You were in a coma for twenty-two years. Welcome back Tom.” Came a reply that seemed
to fade out into silence. Before he knew it, tears trickled down. Twenty-two years of
grappling with the echoes of time. Twenty-two years.

Questions sink elusively. Daffodils vanish. The honeysuckle and pine aroma turns around.
But memories are eternal. Space is eternal. Time is eternal. Tom’s life had become eternal.
Space could not be lost. Tom could not be lost. Tom’s life could not be lost.

Time. Space. Dimensions.

Tick. Tock.