Not More, Not Less
Unexpected Conversation
This piece is competing for a cut of the $400 prize pool in NOPE Interviews: The Bounty open submission call.
He asked not to be identified.
We spoke on a quiet afternoon, in a small place just off the road. Nothing about it suggested anything unusual. Just two people sitting, with time moving without urgency. He didn’t see much reason to be asked anything. There was no reason for it to feel like an interview, despite the fact I took my old recorder with me.
I told him I had been thinking about how time changes, depending on the stage of life we are in. He didn’t answer straight away. For a moment, it wasn’t clear if he would. Then he just nodded, almost to himself.
I asked him if his days felt different now. The question seemed to sit outside of what he considered necessary. He shifted slightly, then said:
“The days are longer now… but it depends. If I have something to fill them with, they pass differently. The problem isn’t this stage of life. It’s whether there’s anything to do.”
He said it without emphasis, as if it didn’t require saying.
After a moment, he added:
“Mornings. That’s when I feel more active… less tired.”
It felt like I was asking questions that didn’t belong to me.
The rest of the day followed another rhythm, at least in the way he described it.
“The afternoons. It’s better to do things in the morning… by the afternoon there’s less to do, and the tiredness sets in.”
Time hadn’t disappeared. It had loosened, in his account of it.
“Yes… as you get older, you have more time… but less strength to work.”
He paused, then continued:
“Yes… I lose track of time more now.”
I asked him how that happened. He didn’t try to explain it immediately. Then:
“For example… shaving.”
It didn’t seem like something he had ever needed to explain before. He spoke about routine without naming it directly. But everything pointed there.
He hesitated here, longer than before, then said:
“I miss having a routine. I don’t like not having one.”
It was the first moment where something like preference appeared. Not complaint. Just position.
“I feel closer to those who still work… because I don’t like not having much capacity to work anymore.”
I asked if that made him feel distant from them. He shook his head slightly.
“Not more, not less. Just… different.”
I asked if anything had changed in what mattered to him.
“There are things that used to matter… and now they don’t.”
After a pause:
“I’ve become more patient.”
He didn’t present it as a gain. Just something that had happened.
“I think… I’m still the same man.”
That sentence stayed longer than the others.
“Most people struggle with retirement. It’s hard not to work the way you used to.”
He said it as if describing the weather. Something common. Something expected. He didn’t seem interested in going further. Not out of reluctance. Simply because there was nothing to add.
“At this stage of life, the surprise is having more patience… and more tolerance.”
He didn’t elaborate. He didn’t need to.
The light had already shifted outside. For a moment, it felt like the conversation had extended further than it should have.
Nothing had been concluded. Nothing resolved.
Not more, not less.
Just different.
A life.
I'll wait then until PART II 😀