A heart beats. The rhythmic pulsing of this most crucial and recognizable organ fills our ears. And so begins this game we call life. It is to the tune of steady thumps within our chests that we paint the picture of our mortality—of our absolute vulnerability to the world’s disease. This disease is more contagious than any illness, spreads more rapidly than any cancer, and kills more absolutely than any atom bomb. Our disease is time.
Since humanity could walk on two feet, it has felt the same cold grasp of time. Every morning, the sun rises, a clock begins keeping time until sinking below the surface of the horizon. When light is gone, another clock begins keeping time until peeking above the hills in the distance.
Like a heartbeat, a clock ticks away, steadily and diligently keeping track of time gone by. To this harmony of thump and tick we make our bed. When we live- we tire. When we tire- we sleep. When we sleep- we dream. In this dream, hearts forever pump life’s sweet nectar through our bodies, and a clock keeps time until the very fabric of the universe decays. Dreams may, though, last only as long as we sleep. And soon we awake to the same thump and tick that accompanied us to bed.
While awake, we are faced with the reality that the ticking of the clock has been introduced to the thumping of the heart. So we must live our lives in well awareness of time and beat, knowing that one day—near or far—we will cease to exist.
When that day comes, the proud thump of our heart will be reduced to a faint twitch, and that faint twitch will be reduced to—nothing. Silence.
Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.


Life is this.
We find ourselves in a steel room. Shackles around our wrists and ankles. One look down tells us we are chained to the floor. The pounding in our chests resembles the fear painted on our faces. A faint ticking can be heard in the distance. Without warning, a pool of water gathers at our feet. The water begins to rise.
No escape. No rescue.
No time.