The Time Lord

Everything stopped, people were stood like statues all around me, people in cars, men on bicycles, babies in prams all lifeless, frozen in time. This was always the shocking part of my little talent, seeing everyone and everything frozen in time. One woman was stopped in the middle of lifting her coffee for a sip, the paper cup held aloft by a bejewelled hand. Rings glinted from each of her fingers and a set of bracelets hung around her wrist. It would be easier for me to take one while she and everyone else are unaware, but she isn’t my target.
My target today is the man in the black hat. He’s standing there, his hand shoved into a greasy paper bag. What looks like chocolate lines his mouth, evidence that he loves his food. This should be easy for me then, slip in, squeeze a few drops of my favourite mixture into the bag then slip out again. When I was a safe distance away from the man I’d unfreeze everything, watching the world come back to life. I’d see the woman drink her coffee, the man pull out yet another doughnut and eat it as traffic moved and cyclists pedaled away.
The Time Lord will have struck again. And no one will know, for i am the master of time.