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The Gift of Time

The Gift of Time

“And what exactly am I supposed to write about?” I asked. “How are you going to make Sarasota into a marketing mecca?” I poised my fingers over the keyboard with a fresh document open on my word processor.

“You’re going to do it,” said Iman.

“Me?” I turned to look at him incredulously. “Why me?”

“Come on now,” he said. “You didn’t really think a couple of aliens were going to pull a community together and help establish a new industry, did you? What would people think? We’re not even from here.”

“Wait a minute. The press release, if you can truly call it that, said that aliens did it.”

“Right. Through you.”

“But I don’t know how?”

“No. You’re afraid you don’t know how. You humans are capable of all kinds of things that you think you’re not. It’s only when you get past that fear that you realize the extent of your capabilities.”

“And how do we do that?” I asked.

“Want it.”

“Just want it?”

“Not just, but desire is a big part,” Iman explained. “Do you think that Alexander Graham Bell invented the telephone without wanting to do it? Do you think that the Wright brothers flew without wanting to? Do you think that Grog invented the wheel without wanting a better way to transport things?”

“Who?”

“Oh, right. He didn’t get much recognition for that. But the point remains. If you’re going to get something done, you’ve got to have a desire to do it.”

“So I’ve got to want to make Sarasota into a marketing mecca?”

“Don’t you?” he asked.

“Well, sure.”

“Then you’re off to a good start.” Iman eased himself back into the chair as I stared at my blank computer screen.

“And just how do I do that?” I asked.

“You already know.”

“I do.”

“Didn’t David tell you?”

“David? He said that… um.” My eyes searched the ether as I tried to remember what the man had said. The strumming of my fingers on the desk grabbed my attention. “He said that everything I needed to change the world was in my hand.”

“Exactly. So what’s in your hand?” asked Iman.

I looked at my fingers and started counting off the tenets he had given me. “Let’s see. First, he said that I had to make a commitment to do what I wanted to do. Second, I need to have the will to make it happen. Third, I need to realize the resources at my disposal. And fourth, I need to be dedicated to follow through on it and continually find improvements.”

I looked back to Iman who held up a crooked thumb with a wide grin.

“So all I need to change the world is in my hand.”

“Spot on,” Iman said, and leaned back in the chair with an assured sigh. 

I stared back at the screen, where no fingers waved at me to give me the impetus to write.

“Problem?” Iman asked.

“I’m still not quite sure where to start.”

Iman sighed. “You know, Grog was a lot easier to convince and his brain was a fraction in size.”

“Hey, go easy on me. These things take time.”

“That’s what it’s for.”

“Huh?”

“Time,” he said. “That’s why humans have it. In order to figure things out. If you didn’t have time, you’d never get anything done.”

“Estralarians don’t need time?”

“It’s at our disposal when we choose to use it. But honestly, eternity is so much easier to manage.”

“You’re eternal?” I asked, spinning in my chair to face him once again.

“Stay focused. We’re talking about you here, not me. What have you got so far?”

“A blank screen.”

“Perfect! The realm of limitless possibilities. You’re light years ahead of some of your contemporaries.”

“Gee, thanks.”

This is an excerpt from How to Survive an Estralarian Mind Meld. Come back weekly for the next part or order your copy in ebook or paperback today!

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