Look ahead!
A bird is flying graciously above my head and cutting into the thin air right in front of my eyes.
Look further down to its talons!
It is gripping something.
Something - a small, circular object.
It is a gold pocket watch.
My gold pocket watch. My time.
"Oh! A bird just stole my time away!" I say.
I hope - I really do - that a bird really stole the time. That way, I could chase the bird and get my time back and therefore, relieve myself of the moments I hold preciously. Too metaphoric, I know. But I really wish . . .
