One Minute

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Another piece of writing I did for the writing group at my work place.

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One Minute
Charkrienorrathip

          One Minute… a compilation of a mere sixty seconds.

          It may be just a few trickles of sands filtering down an hour glass, yet there are rarely cases where so little can mean so much. It can mean
a hundred of different things to different people, but there is no denying that this tiny specter of time which is almost always seemingly insignificant can be the difference between glory and doom, fame and infamy, life and death. 

          To a chef, one minute may mean the difference between a masterpiece that the food critics adore and shower with praise making
the chef an instant star standing proudly in the limelight, and an ordinary
dish not even worth another taste or mention which only ensure that
the chef remained chained to the kitchen, continuing to toil and labor away invisibly in the dynamic universe of gastronomy where you are only remembered for, and as good as, your last dish.

          To a baker, one minute may be the difference between a perfectly baked cake, with the flour rising to its ultimate splendor giving the eater
a mouthwatering scrumptious dessert to die for and remember, and an overcooked cake where the taste can be on the edged of burnt bun that ashen the mouth leaving it a desert in dire need of water to alleviate the foul aftertaste.

          To a boxer, one minute may be the difference between having the
Championship belt adorning their waist, basking in the triumph of a
magnificent well fought fight, outsmarting and outboxing their opponents tactically and technically, and a heartbreaking déjà vu of pain and
punishment. It may be the difference of entering the arena as an underdog
and leaving as a hero, or leaving the arena in the same manner as their
arrival - a ghost lost in eternal anonymity.

          To a movie star choosing a script, it may mean the difference
between a career sucked dry by hopeless bit parts in small budget
films, and a magnificent opportunity to showcase their talents and rise
to the echelon of the gods of the silver screens, making them an actor rather than a movie star, giving them a chance to be somebody famous, loved and idolized by people the world over, rather than remaining a hopeless dreamer, an aspiring actor idolizing other actors.     
          To a politician, one minute may mean the difference between
the rise of their nation, or the continued struggle of their people. It may
mean the difference of doing the right thing at the right time for the right reasons driven by self-sacrifice, and their burning intention to make things better for the people they have pledged to work for, and doing the wrong thing at the wrong time for all the wrong reasons, driven by corruption, self-obsessed greed, and self-centered goals.

          To a doctor, one minute may be the difference between the life and death of their patients. It may be the difference between receiving praises from a grateful family appreciative of the doctor’s effort in jostling with the Grim Reaper, and giving the ailing, dying patient another chance at life, and a damning verdict from a heartbroken family with tears in their eyes and fire in their hearts, who lost a member of their family at the
hands of the doctor.

          It may change the entire history of the world, as who knows what
would have happened if Julius Ceasar never crossed the river Rubicon,
given one more minute to rethink his position, or if President Harry S. Truman was given one more minute before his decision to give the executive order to employ atomic bombs in Hiroshima and Nagasaki.  

          One minute can also be the difference between meeting your
fate and missing your destiny.

          One minute…

          A mere sixty seconds…

          It may mean different things to different people.

          But to me, it means the difference between the life I used to
have and the half-life I am forced to live now.

          For if I had waited a mere sixty seconds, if I had decided not to jumped the red traffic light, I would still be free and walking, and not have the blood of a family on my hands, or confined to the bed shackled with regrets, remorse and self-loath…

          What I would give to relive that one minute.

                                                *****