Father Time didn’t forget, though. Father Time remembered and he waited, patient and perfectly content. Father Time knows he need not chase us, ever. Sooner or later we all circle back to him. Of all the old gods, he is the one to which all our bodies are ultimately sacrificed. Me, you, our parents and children; Olympian athletes and ivory-tower intellects; the oldest living woman and the babe born still; all the world’s prophets and their gods alike — it doesn’t really matter. In the end, we are all Time’s bitch.