Fast Forward

She was always looking forward: to the next day, next week, next traffic light. Her everyday routine - wake, exercise, eat, work, cook, clean, sleep - repeated ad nauseum. I wish I could just fast forward this part, she thought to herself, imagining a movie montage where months of her boring daily life passed in mere moments, allowing her to skip directly to the payoff of a completed project or a vacation.

One morning she awoke in a blur. As she rose from her bed's comforting embrace she realized she was moving at an inordinate speed - she flew through her workout and when she sat down to savour the dark warmth of her morning coffee she couldn't taste it because she was already standing in the shower, whose pounding massage she couldn't feel because she was already dressed and zipping through morning traffic.

Her workday passed by in an instant. Conversations went unheard and connections went unmade due to their celerity. She met her lover for a romantic dinner but the meal flashed by unrelished before they returned to her apartment for lovemaking she barely felt.

Her days turned into weeks then months as she yearned to prolong the moments of pleasure in her life. She noticed a small chocolate shop one morning on her rapid commute and vowed to get there that evening. She flew in the door just before closing and quickly explained to the wizened clerk that she needed a chocolate good enough to slow time.

He looked at her carefully before telling her no candy could do what she wanted but he did know something that could if she truly wanted to go back.

"Do you really want to go back?" he asked solemly. She nodded emphatically. "Close your eyes," he instructed her and when she'd done what he asked, he kissed her.

She stiffened as his mouth met hers then immersed herself in the sensation as she realized they were the lips of her lover. She opened her eyes for a moment to find her bearings in his eyes then shut them again to let their kiss stop time.