Time zones are fascinating. Different places dwelling in different times. This room for instance, I looked around and could swear the time zone here is like the fluttering pages of a book in the wind. Words and wishes captured in four years flashing past as if it’s a slideshow, named college. Another room, the one where time was born and where it died. Where it was both, frozen and dripping fast as we joined our hands and begged Him to spare my mother’s breaths, the waiting room at the hospital. Another place, where times zones didn’t mean anything, just touches of innocent hands and our heartbeats, his backyard. The one time where Time was all the seconds ever, was when he was down on his knee with love in his heart, asking for a promise to be his, till death do us part.