One afternoon, Elektra was having trouble sleeping. She thought about how in the years she had lived, time had moved very fast and very slow, but how there was often no way to predict.
Still, now that she was older, time often seemed to move faster, even if it was less exciting, just by virtue of the fact that there was less new to see in the world.
Thinking about her youth made her feel conflicted, because a part of her wanted to retain the excitement of that period of her life, but another part wanted to avoid the unease she also associated with it, the constant longing for more than she could ever possibly attain. She didn’t exactly feel content with the present, however, and knew that she would be annoyed to be around anyone else who for very long claimed to be happy.
Which was not to say she felt unhappy. Life at this stage didn’t feel particularly difficult, but it certainly didn’t feel easy either. The future is always filled with so much uncertainty, after all.
With little to be done for it at the moment, she decided to go sit in the sun, where for a few minutes she felt warm and attentive, while nevertheless thinking about nothing.
