Timeless Love

The world froze at 2:04 PM.

Cars halted mid-intersection. Birds hovered like ornaments in the sky. Conversations turned to statues, caught in half-spoken syllables. Ezra Kane, a quiet bookstore clerk, was the only one who moved through the stillness.

It started three weeks ago, after a freak lightning storm. He’d been cataloging used paperbacks when a flash of white energy surged through the room and knocked him unconscious. When he woke, the world was paused. Everyone and everything but him.

At first, it terrified him.

Then he began to wander.

There was something intoxicating about the silence. The paused world was like a painting — perfect, unchanging. And in the frozen crowd of a downtown street, he found her.

She was standing in front of a flower shop, one hand reaching toward a lilac bouquet. Long chestnut hair spilled from her scarf, lips parted in a soft half-smile, like she was thinking of something kind.

Ezra visited her every day.

He called her “Lia.” He didn’t know her real name. But he would sit beside her, talk to her like they were old friends, even though she never moved. He told her stories, read poetry, brought her coffee she’d never drink. He swore her expression softened sometimes — as if she was listening.

On the seventh day, she blinked.

He dropped his thermos.

Her hand, still frozen in mid-air, twitched.

Ezra leaned in. “Can you hear me?”

She didn’t answer, but her eyes found his. There was a flicker of confusion. Then recognition. Then stillness again.

Ezra's heart thundered. He spent every paused hour with her after that, waiting for movement, for another blink, for any sign.

He began to piece it together. Time stopped only for him. But Lia… she was inside that paused world too — aware, partially alive. Somehow.

They began to communicate in gestures. She’d write messages on a notepad before time resumed. He’d reply the next time the world paused. It became their secret language.

“Who are you?”

“Ezra. And you?”

“Lia.”

“Why are you awake?”

“I don’t know. Maybe… you?”

One day, she wrote:

“I think we’re not supposed to meet. But I’m glad we did.”

Ezra smiled at her for a full five minutes.

But time only paused for an hour each day. The rest of Ezra’s life blurred into grey between those moments. Conversations with real people felt meaningless. Food lost flavor. Music lost rhythm. He lived only for the silence.

Then came the decision.

The storm had returned. Static buzzed in the sky. The clocks flickered. The frozen world trembled.

Lia handed him a note, eyes solemn.

“The next time it happens; you’ll have a choice. Stay here — with me — or go back. But if you stay, time will never move again.”

Ezra read it again.

Never move again.

The bookstore. His sister. The warmth of the sun on moving days. His mother’s voice on the phone. Morning coffee. His life.

He looked at Lia.

She wasn’t a fantasy anymore. She wasn’t a statue. She was someone who saw him — who spoke in silence, who lived in the same strange edges of time.

“Will we grow old?” he asked.

She shook her head.

“Will we change?”

“No.”

“Will we be happy?”

Her eyes softened.

Ezra closed his eyes.

The next day, 2:04 PM came and went.

Time flowed like always.

The birds flew. The cars moved. The world continued.

And in front of the flower shop, there was no one reaching for lilacs.

Only a note taped to the window:

“Love lives in moments, not in forever. Thank you for choosing life.”

Ezra smiled through tears.

And walked back into time.