writing class quickie: Use the word "time" in a short fictional

a short piece written in 20 min so be kind to the over dramatic and non-concluded.

I rush home from work in the hopes of at least beginning my dog’s walk in the sunlight. Perhaps adding a five or a ten here and there to the speed limit signs isn’t the wisest thing to do. But I enjoy the feeling of pushing the peddle harder, and the reassuring engine’s gusto. I walk in the door, kicking off high heels and pulling off my jacket as John comes to greet me. He has already started dinner, and I really only have 45 minutes to jog. Our baby Akiva, otherwise known as dog princess of the house, paces in the doorway as I change and lace up my shoes. In less then five minutes of my arrival, I am out the door again bundled up against the fall chill.
Akiva and I head towards her favorite park, and our most usual path. Together we move without verbal commands. We both have this route memorized. Our pace picks up as we leave our neighborhood and take our first crunch steps onto the gravel path. I pretend to enjoy the calm around me, but instead my mind whirls. John and I have been bickering a lot lately. An unusual rut for us to be in, very rarely do we argue. Even now we don’t argue. We are more civilized than that. Well, more civilized once I had my moment and was through breaking a glass or five in the kitchen. I was controlled enough at least to wait till he had left, and then I aimed them at nothing in particular. On coming home and finding me cleaning the mess, I had to “explain” that I had tripped while unloading the dish washer. I swept our kitchen floor with care to make sure Akiva wouldn’t get shards in her paws.
We aren’t disagreeing about any one topic. I feel lonely and he feels smothered. Isn’t that how the complaint usually goes? Either way I knew we were due for an hour long show down, and then everything would be wonderful again. A hour of yelling and then a month or two of peace. All I had to do, was apologize at the appropriate time and he had to show concern for my stress.
My thoughts snap to the trail as Akiva starts after a rabbit. I pull her back in with a nasty quick tug to the leash. She is too big to be subtle with. We walk and begin to turn around as I start to get dizzy. Each step rings in my ears competing with the sound of my heart pumping. I pick up our pace as I start panting. I pull off my cap and scarf but am roasting despite the cold wind picking up in the trees. All of a sudden I see black.
I wake up face first in woodchips and gravel. Their earthy musty smell is sharp and mixed with decaying yellow leaves. I roll over to see Akiva a yard or two away laying in a wallow of muck. I feel slightly refreshed, as one might feel after a cat nap. I have the hint of a headache, but I can no longer remember what I had been thinking about. I call Akiva and we head home. Her at my side despite the fact that I haven’t bothered to pick up the purple nylon leash trailing from her neck.
“How was your walk?” John asks as we open the door. I start to answer then realize he is on his knees talking to Akiva. “Did the gorgeous girl have a good walk? Does she want a kiss?”
“Mommy does!’ I say kicking off my shoes. He looks up and frowns then comes over and lands a peck on my cheek. We sit down to dinner, then read sharing the coach until bed.
I forget all about passing out. I definitely don’t tell John. He would find it weird if I said that I liked it. A week later I start getting calls from my sister. Her marriage isn’t working. They are getting a divorce. I knew they were fighting a lot, but I figured that was their passion. But now suddenly I am taking her calls at work, at the bar, before bed. We talk, though I can barely understand what she says because each time she calls she is sobbing. Suddenly my world and my time seems all spoken for. I have to help her through this, because who else will. I start getting nervous myself about John and I. We still haven’t duked it out. In fact he hovers on the sidelines while I cry myself to sleep from exhaustion. That’s when I start experimenting.
If I cut out water in the afternoon sometimes I pass out when I go for my jogs. Sometimes if I just get by all day on little handfuls of food, when I hit the trail I black out. I start getting up early in the mornings supposedly to make my evenings easier… but really to force my body to run barely awake and eight hours hungry. I get good at learning the other neighborhood exerciser’s routines. I know to avoid certain paths with benches that they use to stretch and do push ups. In those few moments when my body must be landing with a dead weight thud on the mulch I am calm. I have all the time in the world and no need to search for inner peace. It just finds me. Who knew that your body had the ability to snatch you up and carry you away. Only to deposit you back with the peace of a week long retreat after only a few seconds gone.
Work gets harder, taking my sisters phone calls gets harder, because now all I want to do is run. Push myself to the point where I literally cannot go on. But I had to get smart. John would be upset if Akiva got away in those few moments unattended. So I started knotting the leash around my wrist. He has also started watching me to make sure that I am eating breakfast and taking stock of the fridge to make sure that food items are being taken for lunch. I never try to skip dinner, though I volunteer more to clear plates and do the dishes. I then am able to whisk my half full plate away before he can see. I feel slightly guilty that I have this secret. He might if he knew. I did have to explain coming home with leaves in my hair and grass stains on my self once or twice. But in time it doesn’t matter. No matter how little I eat or how hard I run, I can’t get my body to black out. I bang my fists on trees by the path in protest. I fast until my head aches and I can barely stay awake at work. But to no affect. For some reason I am no longer allowed to time travel. So instead I made an appointment and got myself some pills. Now I just live in a box. I don’t fall and escape time anymore. Time just runs more slowly to me at least. The pills delay and dull my reactions. Now when I walk the dog. It is just up and down the block, back and forth once or twice. Now I don’t bother answering my phone, and problems at work or with John? They can be solved tomorrow. There is plenty of time tomorrow.