Forever Man

Time is relative, that’s what they say.

It’s supposed to fly when you’re having fun. Or so he had heard.

And everyone knows it drags ass when you’re miserable.

Dan knew that bit for himself.

Actually, he believed he knew it better than anybody.

He aged t0 prove it.

He aged quick, quicker than all the other kids. He was the only kid with stubble in the fifth grade.

Yes stubble, because, yes, he shaved.

Sometimes more than once a day depending on how much agony he was feeling.

And he was a head taller than Mr. Marcus.

His pediatrician told his parents it was probably a problem with his pituitary gland. Too much growth hormone?

That’s how he’d said it. With a stupid upturn in inflection, the damn doctor had said it like a question.

Because he didn’t have a clue.

No. The truth was, Dan was somewhere in his thirties, though he’d lost count about. A decade ago. Or maybe a few weeks back, depending on who you asked.

See, he could control time. He could bring it to a crawl, a near stand still.

He’d read up on physics, in those horrible moments that seemed to drag on forever. About some theory called “time dilation”…. but his super power wasn’t smartness. If only!

His super power was a misery. Time warped around him, depending on his mood.

When he was happy, the motherfucker zipped right by. Those good years, before his mom passed, those were a blur of— light! color! joy!

But when he was down, it crawled gray. And if he reached a certain depth of misery, everything stood still.

But he just couldn’t decide should he use this power for good, or evil?

Ambivalence. Apathy.

He had all the time in the world to decide.