The Temporal Tailor ​A Tale of Borrowed Time ​The clock on the subway platform glowed an unforgiving 2:14 AM. Julian sat on the freezing tile bench, staring at the crumpled eviction notice in his hands. He was an artist who had run out of canvas, a man who had run out of luck, and, most pressingly, a tenant who had run out of time. Tomorrow, the locks would be changed.​"You look like a man watching the sand run out of the hourglass," a voice echoed down the empty platform.​Julian looked up. A figure stood under the flickering fluorescent light, draped in