The Timesuckers
Two of them watch the people scatter in and out of the bank through their head-coverings. But number one with no eye slits in his hood paws the ground with his tattered brown gloves. He mutters, “There awr ovar (are over) two hundwed people on the first flawr (floor) alone. And time? We have less of thawt (that). When the bomb goes off at the clock tawar we will have 15 seconds to get in there and extrawct (extract) the time.”
“I’m afraid. I’m sick of losing my time to the banker, but I don’t want to lose my life. If we’re dead we won’t be thinking anything. Can you guys hear me? Am I getting through to you? I’ll take fifteen minutes of life over no life,” number two shuffles his boots nervously.
The next silence is extremely uncomfortable.
“If you were talking I missed it. I missed your message,” The third says cupping his ears from inside the hood. “I heard number one, despite his lagged words but number two, you’re fuzzy. How are we supposed to do anything if we can’t communicate?”
Another awkward silence.
“Who said fighting a god would be easy number 2? And what is the sense of living if you are being robbed of your very time? The banker is a thief who calls himself a god. He isn’t. Because the three of us, despite being blind in 3 different ways. We will take him down. It’s in our blood. It’s in our family name,” number 1 takes off his hood revealing his pink, broken ears, wise brown circles for eyes, long snout and a grey sniffer.
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