Time is like a naughty child. I was still running on the playground, and it pulled me back to the classroom. I'm still having a beautiful dream, and it woke me up again.
Time is like a magician. After a while, he took out a sun from his pocket, and night became day. Another moment, he took out a black pen from his pocket and doodled in the sky, and the day turned into night.
Time is like a beautiful meteor, which is gone forever. Is it possible that a scud tried to recover yesterday? Maybe he flew to America by rocket, maybe last night, maybe he went back to yesterday in his dream, maybe he traveled through time and space, maybe. ...