TLDR: Listen Instead

So Melvin came to me with something that made me question everything.

He said, “We’re losing time.”

I asked him what he meant, and he said, “I’ve been tracking our daily schedules down to the minute. Clock-in times, customer arrivals, service durations, breaks, everything. And there are gaps. Entire hours where nothing is logged. No customers. No activity. Just… missing time.”

I told him maybe he just forgot to log those hours, but Melvin said, “No. I checked the security camera timestamps. I checked the clock on the wall. I checked my phone. The time jumps. One minute it’s 2:15pm, the next minute it’s 3:47pm. An hour and thirty-two minutes just gone.”

I thought he was messing with me. But then he showed me the footage. He pulled up the security camera from last Tuesday. The timestamp showed 2:15pm. I was mid-haircut. Sam was sweeping. Melvin was at the counter. Then the screen flickered. When it came back, the timestamp showed 3:47pm. I was finishing a completely different haircut. Sam was with a different customer. Melvin was in a different position. An hour and thirty-two minutes had passed in an instant.

I asked Melvin if the camera malfunctioned, and he said, “That’s what I thought. So I checked my phone. I have a habit of checking the time constantly. I checked it at 2:14pm. The next time I checked, it was 3:48pm. I have no memory of that hour and a half. None of us do.”

Now I’m freaking out because he’s right. I don’t remember that time. I remember the haircut I was doing at 2:15pm. I remember the one I was finishing at 3:47pm. But I don’t remember the time in between. It’s just… gone.

Melvin said, “It’s been happening for weeks. Sometimes it’s twenty minutes. Sometimes it’s an hour. Last Thursday, we lost two hours and forty-three minutes. I have the data. I’ve been documenting every gap.”

He showed me his spreadsheet. Dates, times, duration of missing time, who was present, what we were doing before and after. The pattern was undeniable. We were losing time. Regularly. And none of us noticed until Melvin started tracking it.

I asked him what he thought was happening, and he said, “I don’t know. But I think something’s taking the time. Or we’re spending it somewhere else and we don’t remember. Or time itself is just… skipping. Like a scratched CD.”

Now I’m obsessed with the clock. I check it constantly. I’m trying to catch the moment when time jumps. But I can’t. One second I’m looking at 1:42pm, the next second I’m looking at 2:58pm, and I have no idea what happened in between.

Melvin’s been asking customers if they notice anything strange. Most of them say no. But a few of them pause. They look confused. One guy said, “Yeah, actually. I thought I’d only been waiting ten minutes, but my phone says it’s been an hour.” Another guy said, “I came in at noon. It’s 3pm now. But I swear I just got here.”

Melvin said, “They’re experiencing it too. But they’re not questioning it. They’re just accepting that time doesn’t make sense here.”

I asked Sam if he’d noticed anything, and he said, “Now that you mention it, yeah. Sometimes I finish a haircut and I can’t remember doing it. Like I blinked and it was done. I thought I was just zoning out.”

Melvin said, “You’re not zoning out. You’re losing time. We all are.”

So Melvin set up multiple clocks around the barbershop. Wall clock. Phone. Laptop. Smartwatch. He’s monitoring all of them simultaneously to see if they all jump at the same time or if it’s just localized.

Yesterday, it happened again. I was cutting hair at 11:23am. I blinked. Suddenly it was 1:09pm. The haircut was done. The customer was gone. A new customer was in the chair. I had no memory of finishing the first haircut, taking payment, greeting the second customer, or starting the second haircut. It was just… done.

Melvin checked all the clocks. They all jumped. 11:23am to 1:09pm. One hour and forty-six minutes. Gone.

He said, “It’s not the clocks. It’s not the cameras. It’s not us. It’s time itself. Something is taking our time. Or we’re living through it and immediately forgetting. Or we’re being moved forward and our memories are being edited to match.”

I asked him which one he thought it was, and he said, “I don’t know. But I’m going to find out.”

Melvin’s started writing notes to himself during the day. Physical notes. On paper. Timestamped. He’s documenting what he’s doing every five minutes. He’s trying to create a record that can’t be erased or edited.

This morning, he found one of his notes. It was timestamped 2:34pm from yesterday. It said: “Something is watching us. It’s in the corner. Don’t look directly at it.”

Melvin has no memory of writing that note. None of us remember seeing anything in the corner. But the note exists. In his handwriting. Timestamped during one of the missing hours.

He said, “I think we’re conscious during the missing time. I think we’re doing things, seeing things, experiencing things. But the moment time catches up, we forget. The memories are erased. And all that’s left are fragments. Notes. Feelings. A sense that something happened but we can’t remember what.”

Now I’m terrified. Because if Melvin’s right, we’re losing hours of our lives every single day. And we have no idea what we’re doing during those hours. Or what’s being done to us.

Melvin asked me, “Do you ever feel like you’re forgetting something important? Like there’s something you’re supposed to remember but you can’t?”

I said yes. I feel that way all the time now.

He said, “Me too. I think we’re trying to remember the missing time. But something won’t let us.”

Here’s What We’re Thinking

Time is strange. Memory is fragile. But your style doesn’t have to be. That’s why we’re offering 25% off all Reuzel products right now. Keep your look consistent, even when time isn’t.

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Visit Venice Barbershop off US 41, next to the courthouse. We’re the only walk-in barbershop offering hot lather shaves. Walk-ins welcome Tuesday–Friday 9am–6pm, Saturday 10am–2pm. Time moves strangely here. We’re not sure why. We’re not sure we want to know.

Look dapper. Remember what you can. (We’re trying.)