Sweeping Second-hand

 

    I have actually done it.  Jim Croce made a song about time in a bottle, but I have gone and done it.  I have actually captured time.  I have knocked it down and swept it into this dustpan, then dropped it carefully into this bin.  Don’t mess with the lid.  Don’t even lift it to peek inside.

    I’m not sure what I’m going to do with it.  I know for a fact it is the most valuable thing we have, so maybe I’ll sell it to the highest bidder.  Maybe someone dying in a hospital, they’d surely want more time with their family.  Or perhaps someone on death row.  But where would they get the money to pay me?

    I need to think about this.  I don’t want to waste it.

    I should have weighed the empty bin, then I could weigh it now and see just how much time I have.  I mean, I know I have a bin full, but how heavy is it?  Do I charge by the pound or by the minute?

    I wonder how long it will last in there without air holes in the bin.  But the moment I start putting air holes in the bin, the time will get out through the holes.  Boy, that would have been a rookie mistake.  Time doesn’t need to breathe.  What was I thinking?

    I don’t even think I can dole it out to someone in segments, without spilling it all over the place.  I’ll have to sell the entire bin just as it is.  They will just have to trust me that the time is in there.  Once they get a little time on their hands they can figure out what to do with it.