The Element Of Time

In August 2020, I set myself the challenge of creating a daily digital collage based on an image and a concept. The image was that of the antique Omega watch that belonged to my Mom and the concept was Time.
In September 2020, the Anomalous Duo is challenging themselves to write a short piece of fiction for each collage — the Our Hours project.

In my earliest memories Mr. Diamond — my teacher in Sunday school — is quite young, early thirties.

He was just back from some Bible college, all fired up on Faith, his personal inspirational shtick was the idea that god was watching everything we do.
“He sees all!”—he’d punctuate a conversation whenever possible.

I was in my mid teens and while I never truly believed it — who does? — it often gave me a weird mental tweak after sexual encounters with my girlfriend. Sarah — light of my life, fire of my loins. We had shared the apple, realized we were naked, and we liked it.
I wonder where she is now, how her life went after we parted ways; if she’s even alive anymore.

Looking back at the numerous different lifetimes I’ve gone through since then — having lived in six different cities — I figure I’ve run through my own small version of the cycles of reincarnation.

The last stop before moving back here was Reno — a godawful job with Tesla — where I was lucky to meet my wife. When our kids were born my memories of this relatively small city lured us here to settle down. My parents had passed away and I had few connections left, so it felt like something rooted in time and yet brand new.

Mr. Diamond was still here. He had married, had a daughter, became a widower, lost his religious fervor, became a grandfather, and was the quite successful owner of a camera and jewelry store named Facets.

Mr. Diamond is very old now, approaching 90. He seems lost in daydreams and memories and doesn’t always recognize me when we pass in the street.

He still shows up for work very regularly but mostly that consists of him sitting in the back office for a couple hours — with a cup of tea that his granddaughter Eleanor, who now runs the store, makes for him — and looking at the four monitors connected to the outdoor surveillance camera; quietly watching the cars and people going by.

When I’m downtown I occasionally stop into the store, wander back towards the office and say hello.

I’ve shared my early memories with Eleanor and when we run into each other on the street or at the market I always ask her how Grandpa Nick is doing.
She smiles and say “he sees all.”

© AleXander Hirka 2020. All Rights Reserved.

Writer, visual artist, philosopher, autodidact, curmudgeon. More than half of what i do is make believe. https://alexanderhirka.nyc

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