Sometimes Time is like a fluid.  It flows effortlessly, seamlessly; smoothing out bumps, filling in gaps, easing through cracks.  At other times, Time is like a solid:  motionless, permanent, immutable.  And yet, Time can also appear to be a gas; visible at first, like a thick and heavy fog, and then—sometimes in an instant—it evaporates, disappearing completely, as though it was never there.  For fast-food worker LaVar Davis, Time is all of these things, especially when the barrel of a venomous black handgun is pressed against his forehead.

(A short story about Time)

The Gun