The light are off now. The infamous power cut has returned to haunt the best among the less affluent in the city. The moon is mocking the night as he lights up the little lamp on the table. His desk has over three course books opened in front of him. As he holds up the pen to solve the next problem, he puts on his ear phones.
The silverish ipod from the past is playing Stop and Stare by the band OneRepublic. The ipod is scratched over. He feels the chill of the lyrics in the air. The other piles of unopened books look back at him. Time has slowed and he is humming the tune. Unaware of the future time slips by, moment by moment.
The world lays in front of him, like the piles of books, waiting to be read. There could be difficult problems to solve without answers to reconcile at the final page, or there could be the sweet poem like the one that described of the yellow and red autumn leaves. He knows this fact and it somehow manages to excite and scare him both at the same time.
While time slips through his slender fingers like fine grains of sand, he lives a moment, one after another. Suddenly time is under his command.