People walking barefoot on the soft, formless sand. Smooth curves zig zag and shape it. Like a snake the sand curves in a wavy figure, forming small sand dunes. The moonlight merges with the city lights shining vibrantly across the delicate white sand. As the cool air blows in I can sense the crisp refreshing taste of the waves crash onto the shore, their crest gallantly lapping across the surface. As the car runs, mile after mile, street after street. I watch the city lights as they flicker and glimmer, as my family and I cruise through the slow, quiet night. We pass shops, houses, and enormous buildings. Couples under Cupid’s curse, fill the night air with dolce love as they walk along the silent streets. Friends share laughs and stroll along, teens hanging out sneaking bottles of beer and wine in their jackets having the time of their lives. Then as we arrive at the serene beach, things become tranquil, time seems to slow just “that much.” Perwshh... The waves crash, just as they begin to recede another cavalry comes charging in to replace it. The birds like arrows and knives pierce the restless, vast, and endless ocean. Plunging one by one in gracious arcs. Sploosh! Sploosh! They swoop back out shooting into the starry, chocolate sky, dark as night itself carrying their prey.

I stroll down these city streets lit up by lamp posts flickering like you see in the movies. Christmas lights are streamed across between each post, curling round and round up the tall black columns. The city streets are paved with smooth stone. Worn out by the passing cars and thousands, if not millions of walkers that cross over it each day. Some might be famous, others homeless. Some might just be good people. Some may have been businessmen, doctors, professors, students, who knows. But what I do know is that I’m walking on the same pavement as they did. Our stories cross here. All of those amazing people, good or bad, walked on this same pavement. Frightening, stunning, and inspirational if you ask me. I keep on strolling. Imagining what those before me must of thought when they walked this same very earth. To my right I see a small candle store with a girl inside. The delicate light from the shop shines into the shadow covered streets. Leaking out of the store is a sweet, dulce smell full of grandma’s sweet apple pie, cinnamon, pumpkin, strawberries, honey, all mixed in one big wiff. The girl’s hair radiates like gold as she flicks it across her shoulder. And for the moment all I could think of was three words: gorgeous, beautiful, and wow. I wish the moment could just freeze forever. Maybe last just a little longer, so I sat down on that bench and watched as the night went by.

As the night went on I could feel the hours wisping away. I thought back to an idea from some movie; what if we could slow time to the point where it all stops? In the movie there’s an artist unable to sleep because he’s under a “curse” cast by his broken heart. He spends his nights laying in bed eating snacks till one night when he’s out buying snacks and realizes he has no money. With that realization he gets a job at that exact store during the hours when he should be sleeping (to which he refers to as “extra hours”). The job is so dull he tries to figure out how to speed up time. But trying to speed it up only slows it down. So he does the exact opposite and imagines the hands of a clock gradually slowing to a stop. And for a time he is then locked in a moment. Not everyone was capable of existing in this moment, while being free to move as well. But a certain few were, and what if I could do the same? In the center of the street I came across a clock. An old analog clock with black hands and numbers and a white filling. One you’d expect to see in a place like this. I closed my eyes and counted to five, imagining the clock growing slower and slower every second until it came to a complete stop. I opened my eyes and just like that I was living within the moment. Everyone was stopped in the middle of whatever they were doing. Whether it be caring for a child, straightening out their clothing, or chomping down on some gum. Why hadn’t I thought of this before? So much beauty I had missed. There must have been so many opportunities to just stop for a moment and look at the detail in every piece of work.

*Whoosh* A gust of wind blows across my back, and following it the smell of sweet lavender. I turn around to catch the door of the candle store closing. Wait a minute, I thought I stopped everything. Suddenly I realize there’s a person missing. The girl in the shop with her golden, luscious hair. She wasn’t there anymore. Perhaps she’s one of the few like me that can live in a moment? In the corner of my eye I can make out golden flurries flying down the street about five stores away. The girl looked back, her face pouring with a sense of fear. My feet broke into an all out sprint chasing her down. Why was she running I wondered. Or more of, what was she running from?

I looked at all of the different expressions on the faces I passed, fearing what might become of these people frozen in the glimpse of time. How do I get back to reality? How do I unfreeze time? The questions were a frenzy running through each and every one of my individual brain cells. I could sense the neurons in my brain buzzing with activity. Little electric charges bursting throughout my brain. Then I felt the soothing light from a light bulb that came on from within: what if I slammed myself into a wall? Surely the pain would bring back a sense of reality. Nah, it would take too much time. I have to chase down the Golden Flurry (that’s what I decided to call the girl with the golden hair). Then I thought, What did the guy in the movie do!? Brilliant! Too bad I don’t remember what he did. So I continued on and tried to tell myself to forget about those people back there. But the other half of me told me, “They’re all going to die!” It’s like the angel and devil of yourself you see in movies. And in this case, the devil won. Why am I so worried anyways? I don’t even know what I’m running from.
Suddenly the girl jerked around the corner of a store and ran into an alley. A very dark alley at that.. And dirty too... Ew. I bursted down the alley and tried to avoid any spots that looked particularly dirty. But wait, where’d Golden Flurry go? I reached the end of the alley and looked up. Sure enough she was climbing the fire escapes up and up and up. Now look, germs are one thing, but heights? I could die! Then again, there’s that thing I’m running from. If I’m going to die, might as well die trying to get a girl right? So up I went. Up, up, up.
By the time I reached the top Golden Flurry was nowhere to be seen. I scanned my surroundings and circled around myself in case she had jumped to another building. Nope. Darn. I decided it’d be best to find out what she was running from, so I peered over the edge of the building back towards where we had come from. The buildings were so small. I must have ran a long way.
Oh crap! Oh my god, oh god. “Who are you and why were you stalking me?” says a voice. I presume it’s Golden Flurry, but to be sure let’s ask. “Are you Golden Flurry? The girl with golden hair?”
“Uh, sure.. Why were you following me?”
“Well, you see, I sort of froze time and didn’t expect anyone else to be able to move.. But, you happened to and so..”
“Yeah, and?”
“It’s not a big deal to you?”
“No, not really. Are you a first timer?”
“As in is this my first time living within a moment? By the way can you pull me back up? I kinda have a fear of heights.”
“Not till you explain yourself.”
“Yeah I am a ‘first timer.’ And I was following you because I thought you were running from some kind of monster or murderer or something.”
“I was. I was running from you.”
“Oh...”
“You see, I’ve never really met anyone else within a moment. I was watching you sit outside the candle shop. You looked like a creep.”
“Yeah well sorry, I kinda enjoy watching the night activity. It’s amazingly beautiful being able to look at everything around you and act as if you weren’t there. As if you were from a whole nother world and you’re invisible. It’s even more beautiful when not a single thing is moving.”
“Little motions seem to be bigger when there’s no motion otherwise.”
“Yeah. Could you let me up now?”
“Oh yeah sure, sorry I forgot.”

She pulled me up over the ledge of the building and straightened out my shirt. “Thanks.” I say. “My name’s Jeremy by the way. Jeremy Woods.”