Time is allowed

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Science Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic
A story from the perspective of a man on a space craft, who, along with a few others, has been in space for an unknown amount of time. He keeps track of all events but cant seem to remeber how they got on the ship...or why.

Submitted: August 01, 2014

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Submitted: August 01, 2014

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Time is allowed

By: Zack Bishop

1/27/2014

 

Space. It was cold. Always so cold. When the rays of light of a distant sun disappeared was when it seemed colder then ever. The heating system was always on but it didn’t warm the things inside. It didn’t warm bitter memories that burned like frozen fire, dancing on the minds of the men on board this lonely ship.

 

The Chronos Parallel. A ship designed to keep humans alive for indefinitely if the systems held out long enough. It was beside time itself. Of course Time was allowed. Even in this place where it seem to have no meaning like it once did.

Jerry was always talking. About the past, the present and the future, he’d begin to blur them together like a shooting star crossing the universe, faster and harder to follow.

Ed would tell his stories as well.

They were good stories.

Stories about the past the present and what the future could be.

Time was allowed.

When they were awake and not in cryostasis that is.

Mark was concerned that they weren’t doing enough to fix things and keep them up to perfect working order so he would work even harder.

All the while I would listen. Always listening.

To the past, the present, and the future. I had all the time I need to.

 

Joseph was afraid. Afraid of the things left behind and what we could find out here in the cold.

 

Thomas was angry. He saw Joseph’s fear as a weakness, always saying for us to “Stay Strong, anyway possible.”

 

He never told any of us to not give up.

 

Henry. Poor Henry gave up. Embracing that cold as he willingly left the airlock.

 

I kept these records. Files. Notes. Videos. Films. Drawings. Some of the other men: Jason, Bill, and Greg. And Thomas thought they were each a waste of time, that they had no relevance.

 

I reminded them that Time was allowed and allowed to be “wasted.”

 

They thought we were all doomed. That we were already dead and that there was no reason for us to have gone on such a trip. And when they told me to put that in my files, I told them I would. And that when the time came I would remind them how they had worried and doubted over nothing. Thomas thought I was too at peace with our situation and asked if I “had a sick death wish”

I told him that of course I did, because we are all curious about the unknown even if we fear it.  And I was afraid.  I told him, if I was afraid then I wouldn’t be human, that I wouldn’t have any sense of self preservation, that I was actually being stronger by accepting this course of events as they came and he should think about that, what with all the time we had.

 

Time is allowed for the things we feel are important.

 

For exploring, for listening, for speaking, for fearing, for hating, for loving, for living, for dying, for healing…for healing. I remember when the mission started a man in a white coat with a soft yet gravelly voice saying:

“Time is allowed…”

What else did he say?

“Time is allowed... For…”

 

The seconds and minutes and hours and days and weeks and months started to slow, the more I remembered of the beginning of the mission, creating an almost calming effect on all of us.

 

Joseph seemed at ease. Almost happy

Thomas slept more, staying in his room most of the time.

Mark relaxed more and was able to make his good jokes again.

Jerry and Ed told their stories with more clarity and with big smiles that helped everyone feel more at home, more in tune with a sort of universal balance. I can’t be sure if that was what was happening but we had time to figure it out.

And those lonely memories we had, that I had. The things I knew from long ago were replacing them: Childhood life, young adulthood, and great times. Time was allowed back then as well.

 

And then one day, I knew because the sun had risen over a planet we had come very close to I fully remembered what the man had said to me

 

“Time is allowed for healing.”

 

Healing.

I was healed.

I went to tell the other men. They weren’t there. But the memories were.

All the files I had so neatly organized, about each man and about the time on the ship.  And then there were the other memories from before the ship. Where some of those names came from, whom those people were, and how they had waited a long time for me to return. To return healed. I was almost back into the orbit of the Earth, it would take some time before I made it back but I decided to enjoy my peaceful clarity because as I had been assured I assure you now that when you need it,

 

Time is allowed.

The End


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