A dream where time stands still

Here’s a story based on your prompt:

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**A Dream Where Time Stands Still**

The world was frozen.

Aman stood in the middle of a bustling street, yet not a single car moved. People were mid-step, their mouths slightly open as if caught mid-conversation. The leaves that had been falling from the trees hovered in the air, as though reluctant to touch the ground. Even the birds were still, their wings caught in an unseen grasp.

It was eerily silent, yet Aman could hear his own heartbeat thudding steadily in his chest. He took a hesitant step forward, half-expecting the world to suddenly resume its motion, but nothing changed. Time had stopped.

He turned in slow circles, taking in the surreal sight. A street vendor had been pouring chai into a cup, but the stream of liquid hung in the air, defying gravity. A little girl was mid-laugh, her curls bouncing but frozen in place. Even the clouds in the sky had stopped drifting.

Panic clawed at Aman’s chest. Had he died? Was this some strange afterlife?

He ran his fingers through his hair, trying to steady his breath. If time had stopped for the world, why hadn’t it stopped for him? He pressed his palm against the surface of a car, but the metal was cold and unyielding. Nothing responded to his touch.

Then, in the middle of the street, he saw her.

A woman in a flowing white dress stood with her back to him. Unlike the others, she wasn’t frozen. She turned her head slightly, as if sensing his presence, and then, without a word, she started walking.

Aman’s heart leapt. She was like him—untouched by whatever had stopped time. He rushed forward, his footsteps echoing strangely in the silence.

“Wait!” he called.

She didn’t stop. Instead, she glided forward, moving with an otherworldly grace, her long hair swaying with every step. Aman chased her through the frozen city, past unmoving traffic and still bodies, until they reached the park.

Here, the trees stood tall, their branches motionless against the windless sky. Aman’s breath came in short bursts, but the woman remained calm, as if this was all perfectly normal.

“Who are you?” Aman asked. “Why aren’t you frozen like the others?”

She turned to face him, and for the first time, Aman saw her eyes—deep, endless pools of light and darkness, holding the weight of time itself. A soft smile played on her lips.

“Because I don’t belong to time,” she said.

Aman frowned. “What does that mean?”

She took a step closer. “You’ve always wondered, haven’t you? If time is real. If it’s just an illusion.”

Aman swallowed. He had always been fascinated by time, by the way it slipped through his fingers like sand. He had spent hours lost in books, trying to understand its mysteries. But none of that had prepared him for this.

“Is this a dream?” he whispered.

The woman tilted her head. “What is a dream, if not another version of reality?”

Aman looked around at the frozen world, at the people caught mid-motion, their expressions unchanged. “Can I bring them back?” he asked.

She shook her head gently. “Time moves as it wishes. You are the only one who has stepped outside it.”

His mind raced. If he was outside of time, did that mean he could move through it? Change things? Fix the mistakes of his past? The thought sent a thrill through him.

The woman must have read his expression because she sighed. “You think you can control time, but it doesn’t work that way.”

“Why not?” Aman asked. “If I’m outside of it, why can’t I go back? Fix things? Undo regrets?”

Her gaze softened. “Because time is not meant to be changed. It is meant to be lived.”

Aman clenched his fists. “Then what’s the point of this? Why am I here?”

She reached out, her fingers brushing against his hand. A wave of warmth spread through him, filling his chest, his mind, his very soul.

“To remind you,” she whispered, “that time is not your enemy. It is a gift. And every moment you have—moving or still—is precious.”

Aman felt a strange weight lift from his heart. He had spent his life chasing time, fearing its loss, regretting the moments that had slipped away. But standing here, in a world where time had paused, he realized something profound.

Time didn’t need to stop for him to appreciate it. He only needed to be present.

The woman smiled as if she understood. Then, without another word, she stepped back.

Aman felt the world shift. A gust of wind stirred the trees. The birds in the sky flapped their wings. The cars honked. Laughter echoed in the air. The world had resumed its rhythm.

The woman was gone.

Aman stood in the park, his heart pounding. Had it all been real? Or just a dream?

But as he stepped forward, feeling the earth solid beneath his feet, he knew one thing for certain—he would never take time for granted again.