On Time --Title too short

Time is a Gnome that walks along side you.
He carries a big sac.
As he follows, reaches inside and grabs packets of time,
hours, months, years which he tosses about over his shoulder without one care.
He does not look at you, he feels no hate for you.
No love either, you mean absolute indifference to him.
Only his duty he cares about.
He never stops, never slows down and never ever goes back.

At first, you are too busy with the newness of the road to care. Who cares? you think..look at all the pretty colors!!

I have plenty of time,

It's not until you feel your pockets filling up that you become aware. Memories, some written on candy wrappers, some written on skin, some firmly sewn deep in your pocket, some fall out to never be seen again.

Once a year you stop, and almost can see him, wondering how much of it you have left.

Reaching in, and tossing out
Reaching in and tossing out,
Over and over and over and over again. Throwing time away like you throw away something not yours.
Until the sac gets flaccid, and light
And empty.

He then yawns a big yawn, stretching his little
Arms up and thinks... Finally.

Then pulls out a gun and shoots you in the head.