Time Hardly Passes
But it always does eventually
I stare at the picture of you on the screen. I had submitted it when I registered last month. It’s the one from our fifth anniversary vacation. Underneath your picture, in plain, black serif font, it says,
STATUS: RAZBLIUTO
I’m still not sure if razbliuto is the right choice of word. But the lady said there were only three status options, and I was supposed to pick one — so I did. I thought the other options were too sharp to describe something so nebulous anyway.
It doesn’t feel like five years, though. It seems like time hardly passed. That’s what they say about being with the one you love, right? Time hardly passes.
My finger hovers on the icon at the very bottom. PROCEED. I take a deep breath, and with an exhale, tap.
I glance at the time — 14:07. I close my eyes.
A gentle buzz wakes me up. The screen beams a subtle glow, with a picture of a woman on it. Underneath it, in plain, black serif font, it says,
STATUS: CLEAR
I get up, and with a light heart, I put on my jacket. Before I leave, I glance again at the time. It hardly passed.
If you enjoyed this story, read another flash fiction by Nirinda Niatiansya here.
