She began saving time. She kept it in a jar on her bedside table, next to the one that held her loose change, the minutes and seconds piling on top of one another until it was overflowing with moments that glittered in the morning sunlight. Then she moved it to her safe. She’d hate for it to be stolen.
“I was wasting so much of it,” She told a friend over lunch.
“What are you going to do with it, though?” He asked. “Take a trip? Pay off some regrets?”
“I’m going to keep it in a bottle,” she decided.