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"What did Time smell like? Like dust and clocks and people. And if you wondered what Time sounded like it sounded like water running in a dark cave and voices crying and dirt dropping down upon hollow box lids, and rain. And going further, what did Time look like? Time looked like snow dropping silently into a black room or it looked like a silent film in an ancient theater, one hundred billion faces falling like those New Year balloons, down and down into nothing."Do you agree with Bradbury? I do, to an extent, but I feel there are a million other ways to explain Time. The real question, which Bradbury doesn't explain is what does Time feel like? Not the passing of time, but the feeling of Time itself.
I think time feels like a rabbit's fur tickling across your face as the summer heat sets in, like the massaging of the one stubborn tense muscle that hurts too much to continue and feels to good to stop, like the air of the night when you reach up toward the stars and just, for a moment, grasp the light of the moon only to have nothing to show for it.
What do you think Time feels like?
