It seems that Flash Fiction is growing in popularity, so here's an effort of mine, not entirely fictional, but more autobiographical.
"You know how much I love you, don't you?"
"You must know, I think of you all day. I lie awake thinking about you at night and then when I fall asleep I dream of you."
"But I need more of you. I need you all to myself."
"My dear, you know I can't do that. You know I am divided too much as it is."
"Please. I need you."
"I need you to myself and I also need to share you with my husband and my children. Please, just a little more."
"You don't have enough of me?"
"No, I don't. I need another day in the week, or even another hour in the day."
"That's ridiculous. You have me for twenty four hours a day, three hundred and sixty five days a year."
"But it's not enough."
"Look, people have asked for more since my very beginning. And I have never given it. You're wasting your breath, I'm afraid."
Father Time watched as the woman walked away, her shoulders drooping, and he shook his head. "Oh dear, there's one born every minute," he thought. "And I should know."