Sometime May 2026

The first word was clunky. The second was worse. But by the time the sun dipped below the horizon, the paper was no longer white. It was messy, flawed, and absolutely real. Arthur leaned back, his neck aching and his fingers stained with ink, and finally understood: "Sometime" had arrived, and it looked exactly like "now."

They never had. The bridge had remained a skeleton of steel, and the friendship had drifted into a quiet history. sometime

The clock on the wall didn't just tick; it felt like it was counting down toward a deadline that didn't exist. "Sometime," Arthur always told himself. "I'll get to it sometime." The first word was clunky