At some point in the not so distant past, Time ended. You wouldn't have noticed because like everyone else, you understand Time as subjective. Things happen here and now, things happened then and when, it's our involvement in them that gives validity and relevance. It was your fault. I thought it important to clarify that, well, you people. Time had been going and existing and moving and contradicting very nicely and then you stopped all that. Time lived on the small island of Reunion, near Mauritius and made a quiet live for itself. Each day was passed foraging for fruits and scurrying between brush, looking for the perfect twigs for its nest. Time stood a healthy 3 feet or so tall, sported a splendid black, yellow and green beak and yes, it could be said, might have stood to loose a pound or so, such was its rounded belly. One day, sailors from a country far from Reunion landed and along with their dogs, made for the forest where Time lived. Time had been busy at the far end of the island and only upon it's return did it see the broken egg in the nest. Time wept and stopped there and then. There would be no continuation, no forward and no back. Time stood still, Time finished.