The Perfect Little Life

​reedsy.com writing prompt: Write about a character who can rewind, pause, or fast-forward time.

​Six customers waited in line before him. If each ordered just one specialty coffee, no food, nothing else, it would take approximately one and a half minutes to order. It would take another two minutes, if Henry was generous, for the single barista to then make the drink. That simply wouldn't do.

He needed to be to work at seven thirty and according to his watch, it was already seven fifteen. It would take twenty-one minutes by his calculation and that didn't even include his own order. It could be argued that he should've planned better, but he hadn't. To be fair, his favorite cafe was unusually busy that morning, and six people in line before him were unheard of. Good business for the non-franchised coffee shop but awful for him. 

He placed two fingers to the pulse of his neck and released an aggravated breath. And just like that, everything stood still. Frozen in place like a printed photograph.

No more obnoxious honking taxi cabs. No loud bustling of crowds of people passing one another on the streets. No flashing advertising billboards. No sounds of the espresso machine - though its steam hung like a cotton balloon in the air. It was always an impressive sight, if he timed the pause just so. 
 
Henry passed the waiting customers and proceeded around the counter. He continued by the barista, frozen in time in mid-pour, and walked straight up to the cahier’s iPad. He deleted the partial order already partially entered, typed in his own, a Red Eye and a ham croissant. He added his name and swiped his card to pay, including a thirty percent tip. He might be a jerk for circumventing time, but at least he wasn’t a complete one.
 
Finished and pleased with his order, he stepped back around the counter and took his place with the other customers, but to the side where customers waited for their orders to be completed. Again, he pressed two fingers to the side of his neck and before sighing to release the spell, he prepared himself for the onslaught of noises heading his way. It was always rather jarring to the senses, like a deaf child having their ocular implant turned on for the first time. No matter how many times he’d experienced it, it was always still the same. He never liked to put things on pause for too long.

Henry sighed and then the world came flooding back all at once. Talking, horns beeping, music in the distance, a bicycle bell, squeaky brakes, a baby crying, dogs barking, someone cursing, the coffee machines buzzing – that was his city.
 
“Henry!”
 
He stepped forward and took his order, coffee in one hand and his croissant, in a bag, in the other. It was now seven seventeen.
 
Back on the streets of Manhattan, he continued on his way to work. Three blocks, three very-long-weave-through-a-maze-of-people blocks, to his building. He had plenty of time. The pace was fast as it always was. Hardly anyone walked slowly; busy people doing busy things, going to busy places, and he happened to be one of them.
 
That’s when the stranger bumped into his arm holding the coffee. It splattered him. The sleeve of his outercoat, across the front of his suit jacket, and even marking his white shirt and tie. Certainly, droplets of coffee had landed on his patent leather loafers. He didn’t have to look. He just knew.
 
Damnit.
 
“Sorry, Man!” the teen wearing Beats headphones called out as he continued his way, giving a bit of a wave as an apology. That was actually a decent apology for a New Yorker, but it didn’t change Henry’s circumstances.
 
He had an important presentation in a matter of hours and no time to return home to change. Obviously, he could. The title in front of his name lent him that capability, but it would also rob him of much needed time for… well, other things.
 
Henry adjusted his croissant bag, placed two fingers to his neck, and gave a simple sigh. Time stood still once more. This time, with fingers still to his neck, he sighed an additional time more, a total of twice, and instead of everything remaining statuesque, the world rewound. Cars drove backwards, conversations became gibberish, people walked without looking behind them.
 
He didn’t need a lot of time, just a few seconds or so, and when he saw the Beats-wearing-teen several feet in front of him, his spilled coffee now full and perfect in his hand, his clothes unmarked, he released his fingers from his neck. As the boy approached, Henry took a half step to the side and missed him completely. No harm, no foul, and he continued his way.
 
The remainder of his journey to the building which housed the offices of Prinster and Wynster, went without issue. Prinster and Wynster – how ridiculous the name. It may as well have been called Billy and Willy for all the silliness that the rhyming names sounded together. Yes, he had a title, but he didn’t have that kind of title to make those kinds of changes.
 
He made his way through the spinning doors and stepped into the lobby. He gave a casual wave to the doorman as well as the security guard before pressing the up button on the elevator. In the few minutes it took for the elevator to arrive, several people gathered around him. Then a few more.
 
No.
 
The ride to the thirty-third floor was his time. His time to enjoy his coffee, eat his croissant, and reflect without disturbance. It was also a time for him to figure out how best to approach Elizabeth today.
 
Once the elevator opened and most everyone had existed, he placed two fingers to his neck and took one deep sigh. Just like before, everything stopped.
 
He placed his coffee and bagged croissant on the small table between the two elevators, next to the decorative vase. Grateful to be in good shape, he stepped into the elevator, took hold of the first person, and carefully lifted them and sat them in the lobby. He did the same with the second. Then, Henry straightened his coat, grabbed his coffee and croissant, stepped into the empty elevator, and pressed the third-third button. With another set of fingers to the neck and another sigh, and off he went, alone and content, and completely happy with himself.
 
By the time he had reached his destination, he had finished his coffee and had eaten his last bite. When he stepped off the elevator, he tossed his garbage into the trash and stole a quick glance of himself in the large lobby mirror. Not ugly by any means, but he also knew on a scale of one to ten, he ranked a solid six at best. He ran a few fingers through the front of his hair, making sure he looked as presentable as possible. He even straightened his tie.
 
The extra-large double glass doors at the far end of the hall slid open as he walked through them, and without looking as though he were looking for her, though he clearly was—the entire elevator ride he had thought of her—he entered nonchalantly as possible. Head high, confident, a man with leader-like abilities, but he smiled as to appear approachable. Elizabeth liked smiles. He had seen a Facebook post where she had mentioned it. No, they were not Facebook friends, and he hated to admit how he had found that tidbit out about Elizabeth, but with his powers it didn’t take much to deduce the possibilities.
 
Henry refused to believe he was a stalker. At least not a stalker in the creepy awful stalker kind of way. To be honest, he tried hard to stay on the right side of human decency…and the law. He only wanted to up his odds with her, not terrify her.
 
From the corner of his eye, he saw her at the front desk. Never had he’d seen a more beautiful woman. Perhaps she wasn’t cover-model stunning, but she was traditionally gorgeous in every sense of the word. Dark curly brown hair that flowed past her shoulders, blue eyes, red lips, and a killer smile that she wore all day long. He could swear he had never seen her without it.
 
Today, he would match her smile. Today he would say more than just hello or good morning. Today, he would be brave and start a conversation with the woman he had admired from afar for over more than a couple of months.
 
As he started toward her desk, his lips curling into a heartfelt smile, a delivery man passed him, carrying a large bouquet of red roses. A dozen of them. He carried them toward Elizabeth.
 
Henry’s steps slowed. His smile faded.
 
“Oh, my God, Elizabeth!” Jenny from accounting came running over. “Are those from Nathan? They’re beautiful!”
In all his Facebook scrolling of her profile, he had not seen any mention of a Nathan. None of her pictures. None of her posts.
 
He should’ve looked through her text messages, but he had thought better against it at the time. She had Facebook open when he had hit pause on time, and scrolling through everything on her phone seemed morally incomprehensible.
 
Elizabeth beamed as she signed for the flowers. Her cheeks glowed and her smile grew even wider – that beautiful smile of hers. Others gathered around, admiring the arrangement and taking turns smelling the petals.
 
He didn’t understand the oohing and ahhing of a bunch of flowers. That was all they were—flowers that would die in less than a week. Wasteful. He did have the full awareness that coming to a full stop and standing there only a slight distance away from a small crowd of women made him come off looking awkward as hell.
 
Henry didn’t say a word. Not even a hello. He did give a slight wave, if it could be called that, and hurried to his office. He shut the door and closed the blinds so he couldn’t see out his office window and into the main area. Better yet, no one could see in. Feeling deflated and ready for the day to end, Henry slumped into the chair behind his desk.   
 
How could he have been so dumb, so careless? How could his heart break when he hadn’t even said more than a word a day to her since she had been hired a few months before? What was the point of his abilities if he couldn’t avoid this pain?
 
Then Henry sat up. He leaned forward and placed his arms on his desk.
 
How far back could he rewind time? The most he had ever tried was ten days when he had wanted to relive an Italian vacation over again. Could he push it further? Did he dare?
 
The answer was yes. For a chance with Elizabeth, he would. He would go back as far as he needed, and he would do it right this time.
 
Henry pressed two fingers to his neck and with full intentions on what he planned to do, he sighed two times.

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