• Published 31st Jul 2012
  • 4,397 Views, 418 Comments

Clockwork - 71NYL-5CR4TCH

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The Gaps Between The Seconds

I have no idea how long I've been here, this gap between the seconds. It could be minutes, days, ages, I can't tell. I can never tell.

Maybe that's for the best.

The sun never rises, but it never sets. The clock never ticks, and I never rest. I never hunger, nor thirst. I certainly never tire.

It makes it much harder to tell the time I spend here.

But I guess it's always the same, the time I spend here.

But it never feels like none at all.

Have you ever wondered how much time is captured within a picture? I've always wondered that.

If time is in infinitely small increments, how long is a picture? Can there be two frames of time, or a half?

I suppose that's how long I spend in here, just a picture in time.

They always say 'a pictures worth a thousand words', but they're wrong.

By millions. Millions of words, of details, of fragments, and of bits of knowledge hidden in the gaps between the seconds.

Millions of things to observe and to analyze.

Millions of things to admire and respect.

Like her.

I've been staring at her for longer than I can even guess at.

She hasn't noticed.

She never does.

Nopony ever does.

Even when I change something in the gaps, to them it's a hiccup, a jolt, a shiver. Nothing they can't shrug off and go about their day. Even those who notice choose to ignore it. It happens too fast for them to comprehend.

Sometimes it bothers me, all the things I could do in the gaps.

When I have all of time to do it.

To do anything, or nothing.

I always wonder what would happen if I stayed within a gap forever.

But I don't think I could.

I fear to imagine forever.

My pencil glides across my pad in a final line. I do my best to capture some gaps. While I will always loose an infinite amount of gaps, I do preserve the one's I like. The one's I rest in.

Essentially I'm a camera, capturing all the things in the gaps. But I can capture so much more. So much more than an image.

I finish my sketch and levitate the pencil back where I found it, along with my sketch pad, and the picture of what she looks like in the gap. I always draw from in the gap. I hate poses, their artificiality ruins what makes realism. What I draw is what she really looks like. Not an ad or an example, but full reality.

I look at the world around me, there's so much detail in the gaps. Each particle of dust, caught by the morning sunlight. The spine of every book, and the way the still sun reflects off their gloss. The feather, suspended perpetually and for no time at all simultaneously by a non-existent breeze.

I feel the wooden floorboards, and how they connect with my hooves warm and firm. The smell of the dust and parchment, somehow with a scent that is old and wise. The taste of my own mouth is one I have learned not to take for granted. It is far better than any other flavor I've had within the gaps.

I'd say there's no sound here, but being alone with one's thoughts is surprisingly loud. The air can't vibrate in these gaps. I've watched myself erupt without a sound.

But most of all its her. It's been her recently. I've drawn this library 63 times now. And 63 times she's been in the middle, smiling. I still miss a lot of details. Details that are there in this gap but gone the next. That's what I like about the gaps. They give me something new to draw. The details never change within the gaps themselves though. And some details...

Some never change. One in particular I can't seem to understand. The way the sun reflects of the sheen of her eyes, it's always the same. I've drawn her at every angle to the sun, but her eyes still sparkle the same as they always have. I hope it's the same as they always will. Her coat is always the same color, but her mane has never been the same shape twice. Always a stray hair, or a different parting at her horn. It's never the same, and it gives me an excuse to draw her again.

I don't know why I need one, it's just nice to have.

I've never known whether its a blessing or a curse. To have all the time in the world. I thought I was wasting away in the gaps between the seconds. I believed that I would die an old stallion, in my early 20's.

It doesn't seem to work that way though.

I don't think I age in the gaps at all.

My name is Clockwork. I have been alive for 19 years, 8 months, 24 days, 4 hours, 26 minutes and 4 seconds.

But I have been conscious for far longer. I'm glad I don't know how long though.

I won't be that young for much longer, but I have been for a while. It's also the oldest I've ever been.

I don't want to grow old, It means I have to see the ones I care about do so as well.

Like her.

I wish I could bring her here with me, into the gaps. To show her all the hidden wonders that lie within each passing moment.

A million details in the most boring of times.

I wish I could make another person appreciate the magic and wonder that exist within an infinite amount of ever passing moments.

The beauty of a single jewel in a river of diamonds.

I wish I could show her the drawings. All of them. I've gotten quite good at it now.

I think she'd like the way I draw her, It really is very accurate.

It is too bad she just met me 5 minutes ago.

I've known her for months it feels.

It always scares me, how fast it really progresses.

How quickly I have to react.

I step back to where I stood and wait.

Wait for the dam to burst.

"-and if you like I can check Canterlot library for some more books on this art style? We don't have many art books here in the Ponyville library."