Birthday Presents
In his mind’s eye he can see the days that came before.
The length is the same now, of course, it is only the speed of them that has changed. The 24 hours are accounted for; 1440 minutes allotted their tasks, boundaries set and schedules made.
He hates to be late, to have to walk into a room after everyone else has arrived. He likes to be there first, it gives him the advantage to be seated and waiting. Put your opponent on the backfoot from the get-go and it saves having to do it later.
Unfortunate, then, that he works for a man who is seemingly unencumbered by time, who will always find time to work the ropeline, to stop and talk, to wave aside Charlie or CJ if they’re unfortunate enough to be on timekeeping duty.
He knows time.
He can tell you the length of every speech he has written, with and without applause, before and after the President’s extemporaneous additions. He knows to the second the length of time it takes from the Press Room to CJ’s office, how many steps from his own office to everywhere else in the building. They may ask Sam the best route someplace, but it’s Toby they’ll ask how long the journey will take.
He also knows how many minutes it has been since he’s felt the touch of her under his hand. It is those minutes that shout in his head, neon-lit and on continual countdown, as if for all the world to see.
It’s less time than they would all think.