Etymon and Polaroid

Time Is Up

We both chanced upon a huge clock that pounded so hard, it almost deafened the beating of our hearts.

Almost. But not quite.

Once upon a time, we lost track of the ticking of what seemed to be a deadline.

Tick tock. Tick tock, sang the clock so sweetly, like the song thrush on a beautiful summer morn. It awakens us like a morning kiss and puts us in a deep slumber like a lullaby.

Every time we ride on the bus, it was supposed to be a monotonous journey of walls and walls of architecture- cold and dry to the bone. And yet what it became was an adventure- a feat full of laughter and old museums and huge libraries and bittersweet coffee and stolen kisses on dark alleys.

And every night was supposed to be the same- the closing of the eyes, thinking of what was to come the next day or the day after that and the day after and after and after- an endless pondering of what if’s and supposed to be’s. And yet what it became was another glimpse on our childhood memories, our first scars on a tumbling bike, our childhood sweethearts, the follies of a petulant mind.

Strangers became a huge backdrop, and time? Well, time eventually caught up behind us taking us aback. It became as imposing as an Old Grandfather Clock, its pendulum swinging back and forth, back and forth, back and forth, like a storm destroying everything on its path. Once, it was a constant whisper of the sands of time- gentle, as if time was too timid to defy us. Now, it was a sonorous sound, almost deafening, almost sickening- a thump of a thousand horses’ hooves, now too strong for us to defy.

Almost. But not quite.

For even in sorrow, we smile. For even in hopelessness, we love. For even in death, we overcome.

In Memory of…



Words by Maria

Art by Audrey Aragon