The Bureaucracy of Forever

They said this section held the records of time not lived. The seeker stood at the threshold of the vast, dark archive, looking up into the oppressive shaft of light. All around him were the unread, uncatalogued lives of countless others. The Archivist, a man worn to bone and spectacles by eons of organization, emerged from the paper walls. "You are early," he whispered, his voice like dry leaves, "Your file isn't due for another three centuries."