Chronos of Tao
The Twelve Short Stories of Exomas
How would I look if I wore it?
The detailed stitching on the rough fabric, connecting every part of it together. Tailored perfectly to fit me. I haven't worn it before -- but today is different. It's a must. The kind of weather that approaches calls for the warmth that it brings.
My reflection in the mirror makes me look exhausted. Did I always look this way? Every crease in my skin that folds as I blink makes my eyes look darker.
What can I do?
I hate missing you.
I hate seeing myself this way.
I hate myself for falling for you.
I hate the power you left me with.
The pain that swims inside of my blood boils every time I want to rewind time and go back to us. My crucial wish to destroy the time that our fates ripped us apart.
Of all the ticks a clock can tock, it will never replace the time you left me with.
Inside of the small, white box sitting on the chair -- a vintage pocket watch filled with the chronos of the time that we once held in our hands. I wear the jacket you left for me. I chose the present I hope you will accept.
A clock of memories.
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