Time announcement: When time stood still

Time. It always came down to time. 'You never get anything done', said Ulrich, slamming the door shut behind him. Vera watched him walk away, feeling helpless. As always on days like this, she wept, feeling weak and lost. She wailed like a lonely puppy. She had lain awake for most of the night, imagining in minute detail how she would work her way through the tasks.

'Tasks' was Ulrich's word for the day's to-do list. Today, the list was long: First, her part-time job from eight o'clock until midday, followed by a doctor's appointment. Then shopping and picking up Ulrich's things from the dry cleaners. Then home to tidy up. This was particularly important, as her in-laws had announced that they were coming over. The tiny guest room had to be aired and cleaned, as Ulrich's parents were staying the night. Then there was the dog, which technically belonged to her husband, but which only Vera ever walked. She had been agonising over whether to reschedule her appointment with the ENT specialist, but she had waited so long for it, and her breathing difficulties were getting worse.

She berated herself for not doing the shopping yesterday, but she had worked late and then met up with her friend, which took thirty minutes. Unfortunately, Ulrich caught her chatting to Inge – right in front of the driveway, stupidly. Later, when dinner was served, she had to endure a fair amount of grumbling about her 'pointless chatter with that stupid cow'. By the time the washing was finally done, the late-night film was already on TV, and Ulrich was quite angry.

'No wonder you're never ready on time', he growled. 'You've no idea how to plan.' In her helpless anger, Vera relished the fact that this comment was rarely applied to men. Ulrich would have been horrified if she had said it – because, in his view, men don't nag – they set the record straight. Yet her husband sounded hardly any different from his mother when she thought she had a reason to rant. And she thought she had a reason all the time.

In any case, it had simply been too hectic to go shopping before, which was why Vera had to do it today – of all days. Her obsessive musings had turned into an obsession. Which shoes should she wear to tackle the distances? Above all, ones she could get through quickly. Would she have time to shower before Ulrich's parents arrived, after running around like that? Perhaps she'd just about have time for a quick freshen up.

'Time', thought Vera. 'If only I could stop time.' This idea, this fixed train of thought, had been with her for years. Time had become an obsession for her, just as chocolate was for people on diets. At some point, your thoughts revolve solely around food. But then, inevitably, the moment came when the craving became overwhelming, and you'd indulge.

'Can you indulge in time?', Vera wondered. Then Ulrich called out from the living room. He asked if she was finally ready. After all, he had to pick up his parents from the station. Instead of letting Vera finish the last few bits and pieces, he insisted that she come along. Yet the guest bed hadn't even been made up. This would give Ulrich's mother a splendid opportunity to put Vera down. And to nag. For a brief moment, the word 'nag' stirred something akin to anger within Vera. 'I need more time!' she shouted. 'Time!'

And then, suddenly, it was quiet. It was so quiet that the air around Vera felt like a soft cloak. When there was still no sound from her husband, Vera went into the living room to check on him. Ulrich was standing there, his face contorted with rage and his mouth half open as if he were about to scream. He was standing in an unnaturally lopsided way, but he didn't fall. He looked like a statue. He had been frozen in place. Time had stood still.

Vera looked around, frightened and trembling. What had happened? What had she done? She had said it out loud. It was like a stone striking ice. Sounds in a vacuum. It was impossible, really, but Ulrich's ridiculous, frozen posture was impossible, too.

'Good heavens, what have I been doing with the time?', whispered Vera. Ulrich shouted again: 'Where on earth have you been, you slowcoach? It's always the same with you!' His reaction now was like surfacing from the water: 'How can you give me such a fright?', Ulrich shrieked. His face turned ashen grey when his wife suddenly appeared right in front of him. For him, time had not stood still. One moment she hadn't been there, and the next she was standing before him. 'Time', said Vera. Immediately, he froze again.

In the days and weeks that followed, Vera revelled in her free time, practically basking in it. Her in-laws' visit had been a real treat because she had made time stand still, allowing her to get things done, treat herself to a long nap, a good read, and lie in the bath for ages. While she was doing all these things, everyone sat frozen at the table or stood motionless in the room, their conversations halted mid-sentence. Outside, in front of the house, everything was likewise at a complete standstill. But Vera revelled in it. Her hair was always carefully styled, and she was always immaculately dressed. She had all the time in the world, after all. Whenever she wanted. Early in the morning, just before eight o'clock, she put the world on hold and lay back down in her warm bed for a few more hours. Yet at eight o'clock sharp, she was ready. It had all become so simple.

Ulrich tried his best to reproach her. But he found it very difficult to come up with reasons to do so. All her tasks were always ticked off and completed. Vera was enjoying her life more than ever. She read all the books that interested her, which she had never had enough time for before. She walked through the suburb with a good book in front of her. Nothing could happen to her – she was the only living being who could move around. More and more often, she was overwhelmed by boundless joy and exuberance, which made her giggle. Loud laughter wasn't Vera's style, so she giggled to herself instead, carefree and without inhibition.

'Is she getting something, or are we just putting her down like this?' The young man in white trousers and a matching smock looked questioningly at the older carer, who lifted the white-haired woman from her wheelchair onto the bed with a practised ease. 'When she's in one of these phases, we'll check on her again in an hour or so. If she's still not asleep, she'll be given something to calm her down. Otherwise, she'll giggle all night long.' 'How long has she been here?' 'Well, about twenty years. She never speaks; all you ever hear from her is that strange giggling.'

© 'Time announcement: When time stood still': A short story by Ilona E. Schwartz (translated by Izabel Comati), 08/2026. Image credit: When time stood still, CC0 (Public Domain Licence).