Drive down of Highway 100 until you hit Milton, then head toward the river. After about 10 miles, you'll find Time, or what's left of it. Time's not really on the way to anything, and there's no reason to go out of your way to get there. Time is a village, clustered around a patch of green Time residents call the Square. The homes around the Square are all boarded shut. Time's population has dwindled to 27, losing on average about two to three people a year, a living ghost town, collapsing in slow motion. The kids that are born here go away to school and never come back. Folks leave, sick of the drive to Milton get gas and groceries, as Time has no open businesses. And people die.
When you die in Time, you're buried there. All the early settlers of the village are up on that hill, just out of reach from the floodwaters. Pioneers, fur-trappers, ex-slaves, and Civil Warriors. There are more dead residents in Time than there are living.
The floodwaters will come and go. But when the last resident dies, Time will cease to exist.
No comments:
Post a Comment