Pretty lame title for a short, but I needed something.
Tiffany, sometimes med student sometimes artist, has illustrated this story into a cute little comic book.
You can see it here at www.tiffanykamerman.blogspot.com.
The actual story is here: (note this was written about ten years ago, so it may seem a little outdated)
THE SECRET TO ETERNAL LIFE
Old Man Time sat on the mountain, stroking his long white beard and grumbling. It was New Year’s Eve, and midnight was approaching. In the crook of his arm was the Great Clock of Time. It was shimmering white, a vibrant black hand. Gold numbers, from 1 to 365, were etched along the outside. The hand was vibrating, now past 365 and a hairbreadth from one.
Little Baby Time climbed up the mountain towards him.
The cycle of rebirth and renewal was as old as Time. Every new year, baby Time would come and take the clock of Time from Old Man Time, and start the new year.
Baby Time finally made to the top, panting, with a shit-eating grin on his face. He was wearing a pastel summer suit and mirrorshades. A CD-Walkman was on his belt, next to his pager and mobile phone. His hair was slicked back and there were gold rings on his fingers.
“So, daddy-o, ready to take the big plunge?” he said between breaths.
Cyber-punk little shit, Father time thought. These young ones, they have no respect for their elders.
The ancient one cleared his throat, took a deep breath, and stood up to his full, terrible height. His gaunt figure stood out harshly in the moonlight. His brow furrowed, attempting to summon all of the wisdom he had learned during his long life. “Let me tell you a story about responsibility...” His powerful voice echoed across canyons and valleys. The sky trembled and the clouds held their breath. “It is the same story that my predecessor told me before I took this important position. It starts a long time ago--”
Baby Time’s cellphone chirped, fracturing the moment. “Scuse me, dude.” He flipped it open with a flick of his wrist. “Hey, honey. Yeah, I’ll be with you tonight. Keep the fire hot for me, babe. I just got a little business to take care of. Call you later. Ciao.”
Baby Time turned off the phone and snapped his fingers. “Yeah, man, I hear what you’re saying. I can dig it. Fling me an email, give me a page, chirp me. IM, ICQ. We’ll do lunch. Now hand over the clock, gramps.”
Old Man Time looked at the young one with narrowed eyes, trying to summon great anger. Instead, he heaved a heavy sigh. His shoulders slumped, and he leaned more heavily on his staff. It was always the same routine. Gingerly, he raised the Great Clock towards Baby Time.
The baby smiled. Greed shone in his huge blue eyes.
Suddenly the old man pointed behind the child. “Look over there!”
The baby turned.
With a swift kick on the rump, the old man sent the baby over the edge. He watched the baby fall screaming and be swallowed up by the clouds.
“Sometimes the old tricks work the best,” he mumbled to himself.
Chuckling, he picked up the clock and wound it backwards to one.
“Gets ‘em every time. How do they think I got to be so old?”