Amy, Ollie, Jack, and Abby sat in the booth at the diner, eating ice-cream, drinking soda, and listening to Adrian’s news.

“So that’s it, then?” Amy asked, finishing off the last of her ice-cream, “After weeks of begging, they still won’t change their minds?”

Adrian shook his head, “My parents already bought the house and they said ours was sold. Once we get our stuff out, that’s it.”

“When do you leave?”

“A week from today.”

“Doesn’t give us much time to play,” Ollie muttered.

“Well, we have a week,” Abby said, “That’s better than nothing, right?”

“Time always flies when we don’t want it to.”

Amy shot up so fast she nearly knocked over her drink, “Wait, I have an idea!” She turned to Adrian, “Where does Time first take off?”


The children agreed to meet at the large hill towering over the city a little after three in the morning. Trees were packed together around the hill and the five chose the one closest to the edge to wait for Time.

“It probably won’t come until dawn,” Amy said, “So we have a little wait. I don’t know how much of a fight it will put up, so when Adrian’s done,” she handed a pair of scissors to the boy, “run as fast as you can and don’t stop until you know it’s safe.”

The others nodded and began climbing the tree. Ollie and Abby kept watch on the branch that hovered over the ledge while the other three got some rest. The moment a faint light appeared on the horizon, Ollie and Abby shook their friends awake and pointed to the creature below.

“Is that it?”

Careful not to lose their balance, the children scrambled to Ollie and Abby’s lookout branch and scanned the ground.

Time was a tall, beautiful thing. It was at least twice the size of Adrian, who was the tallest member of the group, and clothed completely in white. Hourglasses dangled from gold chains around its neck while its arms were covered in watches of all shapes and sizes. Around its waist were clocks, both analog and digital, clipped to its belt. With every step Time took, it made a ticking noise. Time’s large, white wings were half-open, catching the breeze on its feathers.

“That’s it,” Amy whispered, “Get ready.”

Time crouched by the edge of the hill, hesitated, and then leapt into the air. It rose a few feet, but was then slammed to the ground by the force of five children jumping onto its back. They skidded and rolled a ways down the hill before coming to a halt by another tree. Time thrashed and clawed, making the screeching noises of an eagle, as the kids threw all their weight onto it, desperately trying to keep it down. Adrian grabbed a hold of its left wing and began clipping the feathers as the others screamed for him to hurry. When he was through, he moved to the right wing and did the same.

Just as the last feather was clipped, Time gathered up every ounce of strength it had and bucked the kids off, striking out at them as they scatted in all directions. When they were a safe distance away, the kids dove behind rocks, bushes, and trees and peeked out to see Time hobble away like an injured bird. They waited ten very long minutes before regrouping at the top of the hill.

“It worked,” Adrian said, checking his watch, “It actually worked!”

“Time won’t be flying for a while,” Amy said, “This is going to be the longest week of our lives.”

Do you think we’re going to get in trouble for this?