Moment Of Your Time

Zander passed him every evening, an almost invisible presence that stood holding a broom in front of a quaint shop. He didn't know when he had first noticed the man. It was like the stranger started as a shadow that solidified after many days of his familiar workday routine.

At some point, he couldn't travel by without his gaze fixating on the man's dark velvet suit and frilly shirt underneath. A black top hat covered blond hair that cascaded in shiny rivers, disappearing down his back. His attire, although quite unusual, wasn't what drew Zander. The attraction belonged to the purple hue of his deep-set eyes.

Normally, a busy pedestrian would speed past between them, breaking the spell that held Zander's attention. He'd shake the daze from his brain and continue on, forgetting the stranger before he took another step. This became routine, one of a thousand autopilot activities that occurred while his focus remained occupied with the day's events.

On his way home after a late night at work, the crisp winter air frosted his cheeks and sent puffs of clouds out with his breath. Inside, he raced through checklists, contemplating how to salvage the failing project. Despite his best efforts, the once-in-a-lifetime promotion he desperately wanted was slipping through his fingers with each missed deadline. If only he could pull this off, he would be on the fast track for wealth beyond his wildest dreams—private jets and penthouse suites, drawing the admiration of all he knew.

The endless hours committed to his job worked its way into every moment of his life. Balance had long ago disappeared, along with his hope of ever having that white picket dream with a family and friends. A single-minded focus on his company and his career had replaced all that. He'd even missed his mother's passing. Priorities he often told himself, pushing down his desire for that other existence.

"Why the hurry?" A thought, not quite his own, interrupted his internal planning. He shook his head. No time for distractions.

He glanced up from the cracks in the sidewalk, his eyes colliding with lavender pupils. A grin of even white teeth spread across the man's face.

Zander's steps faltered, and lines appeared on his forehead. He tried to shake off the cloud enveloping his mind. The stranger's unblinking gaze locked onto his, holding for what seemed like an eternity. A strange calm he'd never experienced descended upon his shoulders.

"Life is passing you by, my friend," echoed in Zander's thoughts. The man's lips hadn't moved, but he somehow knew the message came from the stranger. How did he do that?

Zander felt the pull to return to his journey, knowing the few hours of sleep he would get would leave him exhausted for the next day's grind. But his feet just wouldn't go.

He jumped in surprise, as the stranger materialized inches from his side.

"Come. Enjoy a drink and take a load off," the man said, in a wispy voice that drew Zander in, his chest tightening with an unexplainable longing. A sweet floral fragrance tinged with a hint of vanilla and jasmine filled his nostrils, easing his shoulders. A sense of tranquility washed over him, as if all was right in the world, and the feeling pulled him forward.

The stranger touched Zander's arm and gestured toward the welcoming glow of his tiny shop. The cheeriness drew Zander like a beacon, a sharp contrast to the bitter cold nipping at his back.

"This way," the man's lively tone called from the doorway.

Zander shook his head, bewildered. How had the man gotten way over there? He glanced to his right, wondering if there were two of these unusual strangers. No, only the empty sidewalk and darkened shop windows lay in that direction.

He stepped inside, leaving Zander a moment to ponder his next move. Wispy clouds of mist wafted from the warmth and wrapped their tendrils around him, creating an intense desire to follow. A fragrance of baby powder teased his senses before an icy gust of wind swept the scent away.

"What harm can one ale do?" sounded inside Zander's head. He wasn't sure who the message came from, but whether from himself or the stranger, he fought the idea.

"I shouldn't. I need to get home," he whispered into the deserted space. He knew his prized opportunity to climb the corporate ladder teeter on the edge. Yet, he took a single step toward the doorway. He hesitated, stealing a backward glance at the street and the way to his house.

"What's a minute of your busy day?" said the stranger's hushed voice in Zander's ear, his peppermint breath caressing Zander's cheek. A firm arm embraced his shoulders. Zander no longer wondered how the stranger had just appeared. He stared ahead and strode into the light.

Heat enveloped him with the sound of Sundance, his father's favorite song. He closed his eyes. The imprint of a memory he'd never experienced danced inside his skull—firm hands tossing a child in the air, and joyous three-year-old giggles.

"What'll you have, my friend?"

Zander's lids snapped open.

A stained wooden bar ran the length of the cozy space, dotted with five stools, each seat covered in red leather. The stranger winked at him from behind the counter, sliding a full pint with a frothy head Zander's way. The chilled glass kissed his palm and he enclosed his fingers around the icy surface. He lifted the liquid to his lips, a sugary taste of ambrosia coating his tongue. All worries of projects washed away, replaced by a strange happiness to enjoy the moment.

"Daddy, play with me," a childish voice whispered somewhere near him.

"What?" Zander asked.

He pivoted, taking in his surroundings as he searched for the child. Picture frames adorned the walls from floor to ceiling. Inside each border, the blurry images gave the illusion the occupants moved in tiny vibrations. He knew that couldn't be so.

He stepped closer to the nearest photo. A black frame enclosed a smiling family of three…no…a fourth seemed to appear in a pose reminiscent of Christmas card happiness. The father, hard to see through the thick dust speckling the glass, smiled adoringly at the children. Wow! He could almost be my twin.

Zander wiped the dirt away.

Huh? What was in this beer?

The empty frame revealed only the peeling paint on the wall, visible without the missing back cover. What the…?

Zander's phone vibrated in his pocket. He pulled the device up, noting the text notification about a six am meeting with his boss to review the latest schedule. He glanced at the current time. 4:30 am? How had the hours passed?

"What do I owe you?" He turned to the front, his focus darting across the unoccupied space. Without thinking, he took a long drag on the nectar that filled his stein. The goodness flowed into his belly, a warmth filling his body.

"Gotta get home to the misses, do you?"

Zander jumped, stepping back from the purple eyes only inches away.

"Jesus, you scared me."

Zander shuffled to the counter, placing the glass down on the cracked surface.

"No wife for me. Too busy with work."

The odd bartender suddenly stood before him. He placed another pint of golden liquid before Zander. The stranger's lips squeezed together into a tight smirk.

"Ah, the empty soul of the lonely." The words seemed to echo all around, radiating out from within Zander's skull.

He frowned, taking a seat. Did the barkeep say that? How did he…in my mind? No, my thoughts are just dark tonight.

He lifted the fresh drink to his lips, a ring of condensation coalescing on the cracked counter. The stranger's arm whipped out. He wiped the surface in mesmerizing circles with a pristine white rag. Faster and faster his hand turned until the blur became too rapid to track. His effort left behind a highly polished shine, and a delicate scent of something so familiar with its deep feeling of happiness. Yet, Zander recognized he'd never encountered the unusual combination of Play-Doh, Crayons and chocolate chip cookies before. He yearned for more of the memories that weren't his. They huddled as transparent shadows slinking on the edges of his brain.

Ghost-like movement caught his eye in the surface's reflection. He knew he shouldn't look. His logic screamed to run out the door while his heart tugged the other way.

"What's the harm?" The voice whispered in his head.

His gaze, seeming to have a life of its own, darted to the solidifying images erupting from the shiny surface. Like tiny holograms, four figures set out a blanket and picnic basket just in front of his arm.

Zander leaned in close, soaking in every detail. The faint aroma of watermelon and sunscreen filled his nostrils, but also a scent he'd never smelled, but could only call love. Electric pulses surged through the goosebumps on his arms.

The miniature man, so like himself, tossed a baseball with the teeny boy. The woman hugged a young girl in a loving embrace. They stood and danced in circles. The giggles radiated off in waves that made Zander's heart want to burst.

The scene blipped. The man's arm curled around her waist, and the couple watched with joyous expressions as the children kicked a rubber ball back and forth. Their attention turned toward each other, their smiles transitioning into a gentle kiss.

The scene jumped again. The man held the woman's hand, each child gripping an adult's fingers. They walked off, arms swinging, disappearing into a thin veil of smoke. Zander longed to race after them.

A soft chime swelled and repeated from Zander's pocket. Fifteen minutes.

He turned to pay his tab, but the barkeep was nowhere to be found. He tossed a few bills on the counter.

"Thanks," he said into the deserted space.

He strode toward the exit, his thoughts returning to the excuses he'd make to his boss. His team, once again, could not meet the unrealistic expectations put upon them.

His steps faltered. A colorful photo by the door frame stopped him. He inched closer, gawking at the cheerful faces of the family inside. His own image stared back, brimming with a wide grin. His attention turned toward the lad who sucked in his cheeks in a goofy fish face. Then the woman drew his eye. He absorbed every detail of her smooth mocha skin and full lips. Her ordinary beauty was nice, but something he knew didn't compare to the inner radiance of her soul. His finger tip traced circles across her mouth that he longed to kiss.

His phone rang. He glanced at the incoming number.

The picture drained as if the color melted, running down into the bottom ledge of the frame. Only his fingerprints remained on the dust covered surface of the glass.

He glimpsed his watch. Eight minutes to get to work. He'd have to sprint to make it.

He raced out into the frosty chill of the morning. The rays of the sun peeked out from the horizon, orange and yellow light dancing along the shadows of the snowdrifts.

He pulled his coat around his neck, preparing for the harsh words waiting for him. The taunt of the coveted promotion strengthened his resolve, and he knew he'd make the situation work, no matter what he had to do.

He sprinted, his rapid steps crunching on the snow. He looked down to navigate an icy spot. A shoulder collided with his, the figure having dashed out of a bakery entrance. Pastries flew as the woman toppled to the ground.

"Watch where…" His eyes went wide. It's her.

She sighed, glancing at the warm donuts rapidly cooling in their scattered wintery piles.

"That's a way to keep the calories off my hips," she said. A melodic laugh erupted from her lips.

He stared as his heartbeat crescendoed.

He held out his hand to help her up. His breath caught as her skin touched against his in their intertwining hands, sending electric pulses along his body.

Avoiding eye contact, he stooped to pick up a pastry.

"Leave 'em for the birds. My contribution to mother nature," she said, her voice light and melodic.

He peeked at her, watching her dust off her blue jeans. A lock of her hair had escaped her ponytail, falling over her face. Without thinking, Zander reached to tuck the loose strand behind her ear. She stood unexpectedly, and his finger slid across her cheek. Their eyes locked. A tug pulled on his heart that he'd never felt before.

A text message vibrated on his phone. He looked down, reaching into his pocket. His stomach knotted.

Where are you?

You're late!

The project is on fire!

Get here now!

He glanced back. She had turned, strolling along in the opposite direction from where he needed to go.

"Choose wisely," the stranger's voice echoed inside Zander.

His eyes darted to the bar. Where? What the… A brick wall dividing two stores stood in its place.

His phone vibrated thrice more, before the device began to ring and ring. He knew what he'd hear, as he had experienced the contemptuous words before.

"I don't have time for this," he whispered into the morning air.

"You have all the time in the world."

He remained frozen in a tug of war, his heart battling with his head. The weight of his decision hung in the balance, and for a moment, everything seemed to stand still. And then, with a deep breath, he took a step, and walked towards his future.