She ran constantly. Except when she crawled. Occasionally she seemed to stop. She was both merciful and merciless. She did not play into the whims of others and nothing could change her mind. People looked at her for hope, yet she never seemed to be enough for anyone. No matter how much she was misunderstood, she never simply quit. She was completely unmoved by the cries of the world and yet a second of her was considered invaluable. Always misunderstood. Always a disappoint. Always unreachable.

She was time itself.