I am the grey fleeing thing – fleeing through space, fleeing through time. Fleeing through all the dimensions. You might have caught a glimpse of me, every now and again. You might have caught sight of me in passing. Then again, you might not have either, I suppose. You might not have either. I really haven’t much more to add to what I have just said there – that about sums it up. That’s about the size of it! I can’t really add a whole lot to what I’ve just said. That’s about it really, that’s the whole story from beginning to end…

You might query me on that. ‘You must have seen a lot in the course of all your fleeing,’ you might say, encouragingly. ‘You’ve obviously been around a fair bit.’ The truth is however that I haven’t seen a lot – I’ve been far too busy fleeing to notice very much! I’ve seen very little. It’s all been a bit of a blur, really. There are shapes rushing by me on either side, but that’s about the limit of any observations that I might be making on the subject. There are vague shapes rushing by me on all sides, and it is as if I am heading down a long, dark, twisty tunnel. The tunnel goes on forever. It’s the Forever Tunnel…

I am the grey, fleeing thing – fleeing through space, fleeing through time. Fleeing through all the dimensions. Fleeing for all I’m worth. You might have seen me in your dreams. You might have seen me in your dreams, but I doubt it. Why would you even bother to take notice? I’m sure you have other things on your mind. Everyone always has other things on their mind. It’s hard not to be preoccupied in life, isn’t it? There’s always something to be worried about. If there wasn’t then you’d be worried about that, isn’t that right? Isn’t that the way?

I’m preoccupied with fleeing, for example. That’s a prime example. Fleeing takes up all my time, you could say! You could say that, but it wouldn’t be accurate. Strictly speaking, it wouldn’t be accurate at all! You see the thing is (and this is something that nobody understands) fleeing actually creates time. Fleeing creates its own special type of time for it to occur within. It’s tautologically self-generating. Fleeing creates ‘fleeing time’ and actually – if the truth were to be known – ‘fleeing time’ is the only time there is.

That’s a bit of a bombshell, isn’t it? Or rather it would be a bit of a bomb-shell if anyone took it on board. Which they don’t. Which they never do. Nobody ever understands this you see. I’ve tried explaining it to people but they just won’t have it; they just stare at me as if I had two heads. Or as if I had ten heads. People are so limited in their understanding, aren’t there? People are so very limited. They have such sharply defined cut-off points to their interest. It’s odd how very limited people are, and you can be sure no one will ever get this. You could never tell them. You could never force that understanding into their brains. That’s what it means to be limited after all!

I am the grey fleeing thing – fleeing through space, fleeing through time. Fleeing for all I’m worth. And at the same time that I’m fleeing I’m creating time with my fleeing. The more I flee the more time there is – it’s infinitely expandable, you see. The faster I flee the faster the time goes, but there’s never any end to it. There’s never any end to it. The trouble is that I’m afraid to stop fleeing, as well you might imagine. I’m afraid to stop fleeing, I’m afraid of what might happen when I do. I’m afraid to find out what it might be like when there’s no more time…