A Timely Visit

"Has the stress of the day ever made you feel insane? Made you feel as though it might just be easier to live in simpler times?" the overly cheery TV announcer practically shouts at me. Yeah, I think to myself, maybe it would be nice just to live in an era where there was no computers, no cell phones, no televisions. I picture myself in a small cottage with a roaring fire and not a trace of modern technology, me in a dated skirt and blouse. I force myself to return back to my own world. Oddly enough the same ad was playing.
"We here at FT Industries believe that no one should be forced to spend their days stuck in their own time! Just one payment of $29.95 could grant you this wonderful power, based on centuries' worth of knowledge!
"If I could control time," I mutter to myself, "I would pay FT Industries much more than $29.95."
"Really?" a snide voice from the corner of the room questioned. "How much would you be willing to pay?" The man was clearly ancient, wrinkled from head to Grecian- sandaled toe. He also had the most peculiar thing around his neck, an enormous hourglass.
"Well, I think that if I could control time, if you could give me that power, I would pay you 10 times that." I reply, trying my best to ignore his very eccentric appearance. "But you would have to explain yourself first."
"I am," he begins in the most pompous voice I have ever heard, "Father Time, master of all time, and I will give you a share of my abilities for $295.95!"
I contemplate this for a moment and decide if this guy was a fraud, then I would learn my lesson and never watch infomercials again. But if he was real? Then I would be able to control time for virtually nothing. He did appear out of nowhere, a fact that was still flummoxing me. I ask him if takes Visa, and he takes my card and returns me a slip to sign. Then he snaps his fingers and leaves me alone, powerless, and feeling like a complete fool. So I sit back down on my couch when the most strange feeling washes over me. It's a curious mixture of nostalgia and happiness, and it doesn't go away. Maybe it did work after all? I concentrate hard on willing all time to stop, visualize the hands of the clock coming to a standstill, and snap my fingers expectantly. All time stopped. It was so eerily silent the hairs on the back of my neck stood up. I went outside and surveyed my surroundings-a gridlock of frozen cars, water from sprinklers halted in mid-air, and a man whom I had just saved from cutting his entire hand off with a saw. Quickly I walked over and unplugged the saw, saving the poor man from a lot of pain. I snapped my fingers and the world came alive again. Then I return back to the inside of my house, smiling slightly as I watch the man whose hand I saved, stare, perplexed, at the unplugged cord. I glance back at my TV, which is now showing some program on Michaelangelo, and I suddenly have the most intriguing idea. Could I teleport to other places when I go through time? I close my eyes and focus on Florence, Italy in 1501, and snap my fingers again. Before even open my eyes,I smell the most enchanting of smells- wonderful Italian food and finely made wine. I hear the bustle of people, the soft clip-clop of horses, but not a single car, or the doleful purr of those Vespa scooters the Italians are so fond of. Upon opening my eyes, I see the many famous buildings of Florence in their infancy. Then I fully take in my surroundings. I appear to be in a workshop of some kind, and the man staring intently at his work of art, has not seemed to notice me. With closer inspection, the work of art appears to be David, Michaelangelo's most famous statue.
"What to call it?" the small, dark man vexes in Italian, which I now seem to understand perfectly. Father Time certainly did a good job with giving me powers! But I'm confused, the statue is clearly David, why can't Michaelangelo realize such a simple name?
" I was under the impression it was David." I reply, causing the artist to jump, but then he forgets his fear and considers what I've said.
"David, David, David," he mutters, "so simple, so classic, just like his proportions. It's perfect! Thank you kind stranger for giving me the perfect name to the perfect piece of art!"
Well, I guess my work here is done, and I snap my fingers to go back to my own time, my own house. When I'm there I start to think. Sure these powers are fantastic, but if I have them, then I need to make sure that I do some good with them. As I trudge up the stairs to go to bed, it was a exceedingly long day, I realize that if I could have any superpowers, it would be time-travel, and maybe, just, maybe, Father Time already knew that.