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“What time is it?” Sean asks, eyes flashing my way.
“It’s early.”
“Do you have somewhere to be?”
“No, sorry, it’s just my father,” I release a stressed breath. “I’m supposed to have dinner with him later.”
“But that’s later.”
“Right,” I draw the word out to make it more of a question.
“So, your free time is now, here, with me.”
I stop and draw my brows. “Uh-huh.”
“So, you should be here, with me.”
“I am?”
“Is that a question?”
“No. I’m with you.”
“But you’re thinking about your dad.”
“Can’t help it.”
“Sure about that?”
I frown. “Is this a test?”
“They say land of the free and the home of the brave,” he mutters, shaking his head as he resumes our walk.
“Yeah, they do,” I follow behind him. “Your point?”
He turns back to me. “I say, it’s the land of the mentally inept, electronically dependent, and brainwashed media slaves.”
“You just insulted me. Gravely, I think.”
“Sorry, I’m just saying why waste now time worrying about later?”
“Now time?”
“It’s the only measure of time that matters. Time itself is just an invisible line, a measure people made up, right? You know that. And while it’s good for reference, it’s also a major stress trigger, because you’re letting it control you.”
I can’t even deny it. The idea of dinner with Roman is ruining my time with Sean.
“Okay, sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry. Just don’t give it power. Now is now, later will eventually be now. Don’t be a slave to the insanity of keeping time and keeping up. Now is the only thing you have control over, and even so, it’s an illusion.”
“You are one strange man,” I laugh, shaking my head.
“Maybe, or maybe everyone needs to wake the fuck up and snap out of business mode. But they won’t, because they’re too cozy in the down comforters they bought from an Instagram ad.”
“Now you’re saying I’m too comfortable?
“Depends.” He draws my arm to him, slowly unfastens my Apple Watch, drops it to the ground, and smashes it with his boot.
