Mold
Mold began to grow in the vents and behind the window blinds. It began to grow because it was the year 2050 and the last time someone came up to clean the vents and wash the windows it was the year 2010. Of course, had Building Management known that in between those years Time was going to slow down so significantly it would have sent someone to come up and clean the vents and the windows a lot sooner, sometime around the year of 2035.
In the meanwhile, Mold took advantage of the current state of affairs and began to spread. First, it crawled out of the corners, slowly, like a debutante walking into a ballroom for her very first time, shyly adjusting the hem of her dress and searching the faces around for a welcoming smile. Seeing that nothing stood in its passageway, Mold crept along the side of the wall and then, feeling more and more uninhibited, it began to spread up and up, into the vents and into the belly of the heating and cooling system.
It was dark and private inside the vents and Mold felt entirely free to take over. It got comfortable, sent for some pizza and took a long nap among the half empty pizza boxes and beer bottles. It scratched itself as if no one was watching (because no one was watching) and burped as if no one could hear it (because no one could hear it).
Time cannot be blamed for this calamity. Prior to slowing down, Time did its diligence and wrote a detailed memo in which it explained that due to the current state of recession it will have to make certain cutbacks and thus it will not be moving at its regular pace. Time emailed the memo to the distribution list for All Matters, Important and Trivial.
But the Building Management did not get that email. It was not its fault, only two weeks prior Building Management did ask Time to make sure that its name was on the distribution list. Time just forgot. It happens.
And so it is quite possible that had Time notified Building Management of the changes in its timeline, Mold would not get the opportunity to have its way. As is, there were no checks and no balances, just a tall building, with floors stacked randomly one on top of the other and walls growing weary of holding multiple layers of paint.
Mold was slowly scratching away at those layers of paint, turning everything around a yellowish green color. The walls themselves began to thin and became paper thin in some place so that Mold, giddy on beer and freedom, started to throw things at the walls ripping right through them. Sunlight would have come in through the open gashes but it never did because of Time’s constant delay. When sunrise came, it was still night in the building but once the building caught up, it was already sunset. Rain dripped through the holes, in its typical fashion not carrying about the speed of Time, and gathering into small puddles on the furniture and the floors. As a result, it was now always dark and wet inside the building. The darkness only enhanced Mold’s sense that no threat of punishment existed.
But little did Mold know that the combination of Time’s slowdown and extreme humidity could have an unexpected affect on its color. Mold began to change from its typical shade of green and bluish streaks emerged on its surface, becoming purple as they grew and deepened. When Mold looked at itself, it freaked. So it blamed the beer and decided to stop drinking. Overwhelmed with fear and uncertainty for the very first time, it threw a beer bottle through the wall.
Building Management got hit with the beer bottle in its right temple. It got a concussion and spent the next three days in bed, feeling light headed and vomiting its every meal. Three days turned into a week because Time was still going too slow and could not speed itself up even in a case of emergency.
However, once the Building Management recovered it sprang into action. It rented a hotel across the street to hold an offsite conference for another three days to come up with a strategy on how to get a handle on Mold. It invited a famous speaker who was an expert on living without Mold because he lived in a building with no vents and windows. Unfortunately, the famous speaker never made it to the conference. Or, rather, he did make it three days prior to its start as the Building Management did not notify him that Time had slowed down.
Building Management waited for the famous speaker for another three days. When it gave up hope, it decided to instead document its strategy on dealing with Mold. It started the documentation process. It sorted through the piles of notes and came up with a sound strategy. But once it got to page 346 of the document it realized the weekend was about to start. So it went home to get some rest, clear its head and spend some time with its family.
When it got back to work, rejuvenated and ready to go, it read all of the 346 pages of its “Systematic Approach of Reducing Mold” document and realized two things. First, visually it would have been better to use bar charts instead of pie charts. Second, the document gave a very thorough and detailed description on how to strip paint from the walls but said nothing about Mold.
At this point Building Management grew as desperate as if its back was slammed against a freshly painted wall. So it did the only thing that it could - blamed Time. It scrapped the 346 page document and put out a high level memo instead, detailing Time’s irresponsible behavior and, quite frankly, its complete luck of time management. So Building Management, wanting everyone to know that it was not afraid to act, got rid of Time. Completely.
And without Time to stop it or to even to slow it down, purple Mold kept on growing and spreading into all of the nooks and crannies of the building. Building sighed and breathed heavily under the weight. Until the day Mold had nowhere to spread… By then it must have been the year 2075 if only Time was still around to mark the calendar. Underneath the layers of purple Mold the building would have crumbled to the ground… But it kept on waiting for the right time.
Meanwhile, Time decided to take some time off to travel through South America. It was having coffee in Buenos Aires, smoking a cigarette and listening to Amy Winehouse playing the background when it realized it had no desire to ever come back.
We only said good-bye with words
I died a hundred times
You go back to her
And I go back to black…
In the meanwhile, Mold took advantage of the current state of affairs and began to spread. First, it crawled out of the corners, slowly, like a debutante walking into a ballroom for her very first time, shyly adjusting the hem of her dress and searching the faces around for a welcoming smile. Seeing that nothing stood in its passageway, Mold crept along the side of the wall and then, feeling more and more uninhibited, it began to spread up and up, into the vents and into the belly of the heating and cooling system.
It was dark and private inside the vents and Mold felt entirely free to take over. It got comfortable, sent for some pizza and took a long nap among the half empty pizza boxes and beer bottles. It scratched itself as if no one was watching (because no one was watching) and burped as if no one could hear it (because no one could hear it).
Time cannot be blamed for this calamity. Prior to slowing down, Time did its diligence and wrote a detailed memo in which it explained that due to the current state of recession it will have to make certain cutbacks and thus it will not be moving at its regular pace. Time emailed the memo to the distribution list for All Matters, Important and Trivial.
But the Building Management did not get that email. It was not its fault, only two weeks prior Building Management did ask Time to make sure that its name was on the distribution list. Time just forgot. It happens.
And so it is quite possible that had Time notified Building Management of the changes in its timeline, Mold would not get the opportunity to have its way. As is, there were no checks and no balances, just a tall building, with floors stacked randomly one on top of the other and walls growing weary of holding multiple layers of paint.
Mold was slowly scratching away at those layers of paint, turning everything around a yellowish green color. The walls themselves began to thin and became paper thin in some place so that Mold, giddy on beer and freedom, started to throw things at the walls ripping right through them. Sunlight would have come in through the open gashes but it never did because of Time’s constant delay. When sunrise came, it was still night in the building but once the building caught up, it was already sunset. Rain dripped through the holes, in its typical fashion not carrying about the speed of Time, and gathering into small puddles on the furniture and the floors. As a result, it was now always dark and wet inside the building. The darkness only enhanced Mold’s sense that no threat of punishment existed.
But little did Mold know that the combination of Time’s slowdown and extreme humidity could have an unexpected affect on its color. Mold began to change from its typical shade of green and bluish streaks emerged on its surface, becoming purple as they grew and deepened. When Mold looked at itself, it freaked. So it blamed the beer and decided to stop drinking. Overwhelmed with fear and uncertainty for the very first time, it threw a beer bottle through the wall.
Building Management got hit with the beer bottle in its right temple. It got a concussion and spent the next three days in bed, feeling light headed and vomiting its every meal. Three days turned into a week because Time was still going too slow and could not speed itself up even in a case of emergency.
However, once the Building Management recovered it sprang into action. It rented a hotel across the street to hold an offsite conference for another three days to come up with a strategy on how to get a handle on Mold. It invited a famous speaker who was an expert on living without Mold because he lived in a building with no vents and windows. Unfortunately, the famous speaker never made it to the conference. Or, rather, he did make it three days prior to its start as the Building Management did not notify him that Time had slowed down.
Building Management waited for the famous speaker for another three days. When it gave up hope, it decided to instead document its strategy on dealing with Mold. It started the documentation process. It sorted through the piles of notes and came up with a sound strategy. But once it got to page 346 of the document it realized the weekend was about to start. So it went home to get some rest, clear its head and spend some time with its family.
When it got back to work, rejuvenated and ready to go, it read all of the 346 pages of its “Systematic Approach of Reducing Mold” document and realized two things. First, visually it would have been better to use bar charts instead of pie charts. Second, the document gave a very thorough and detailed description on how to strip paint from the walls but said nothing about Mold.
At this point Building Management grew as desperate as if its back was slammed against a freshly painted wall. So it did the only thing that it could - blamed Time. It scrapped the 346 page document and put out a high level memo instead, detailing Time’s irresponsible behavior and, quite frankly, its complete luck of time management. So Building Management, wanting everyone to know that it was not afraid to act, got rid of Time. Completely.
And without Time to stop it or to even to slow it down, purple Mold kept on growing and spreading into all of the nooks and crannies of the building. Building sighed and breathed heavily under the weight. Until the day Mold had nowhere to spread… By then it must have been the year 2075 if only Time was still around to mark the calendar. Underneath the layers of purple Mold the building would have crumbled to the ground… But it kept on waiting for the right time.
Meanwhile, Time decided to take some time off to travel through South America. It was having coffee in Buenos Aires, smoking a cigarette and listening to Amy Winehouse playing the background when it realized it had no desire to ever come back.
We only said good-bye with words
I died a hundred times
You go back to her
And I go back to black…