Tick... tick... tick... tick...

The clock speaks only its own language, of which humans can understand. The flow of time cannot be seen, nor felt, nor smelt. A human cannot truly perceive it beyond the present. Recent memory and thoughts on what that human will do next, even if it’s subconscious, is the best we can see of the past and present.

Frankly, I’ve never been a big fan of the question “where does the time go?” mostly because it’s cliché and cannot be answered, nor be asked by someone who truly gets that time is a dimension. The flip side of that coin would be someone who passes it off as a mere construct of human imagination and isn’t really there regardless of science saying otherwise. Either that sort of individual understands that human measurement of time is a construct and not time itself, or they do not recognize that.

You cannot sensibly answer “where does the time go?” though I guess if I wanted to play a joke on someone attempting to be whimsical I could answer “It goes behind you.”

The ticking towards all our retribution grows louder in my mind. It won’t be long before the clock strikes midnight.

Everyone gets a free set of 24 hours in an Earth day, you have to spend it, one second per second, you can’t not spend it, although you can change the rate of your spending if you know what to do or where to look. But that is aside the point, we all get to experience a 24-hour day by practical means, it is up to us on how to spend that time.

So how will we all spend that time in these critical days? In our final hours? What if we only had one day left? What do you spend it on? Perhaps you leave your mark on the world in some way, but then what? You die, you decompose or mummify, and whatever you made will one day break down with enough time eroding away at it.

As mysterious and strange as this unseeable substance is, it’s also quite cruel and authoritarian, marching us to the end.

Tick... tick... tick... tick...