He knelt down and touched it. The crack was warm, pulsing like a vein. Through it, he saw himself at age nine, losing a red balloon at a fair. He saw his first wife laughing before she forgot his name. He saw next Tuesday’s lottery numbers, then watched them dissolve into ash.
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The crack whispered back: Chase me.
“Time’s got a fracture,” he whispered. He knelt down and touched it
The crack flew. Time stuttered once, then healed. pulsing like a vein. Through it