Years ago Poul Anderson wrote a science-fiction story entitled "The Horn of Time the Hunter." (Great story, check it out.) In the story Anderson has a line of poetry something to the effect (I'm going from memory): he heard the Horn of Time the Hunter, pursuing a quarry that weeps as it runs. I've often thought of this title, and the imagery it creates in the mind.

Many in the West regard time as a hunter to be eluded; perhaps with enough gym time and the right hair coloring we can fool ourselves, and others, into believing we still are young. In the increasingly deperate flight from aging some are willing to do anything to look a bit younger, even make use of death to continue a semblence of younger life. This article tells of clinics that use stem cells harvested from aborted babies to give clients a younger look. (Scroll down the linked page for this part of the article.) Humans, trying to retain the bloom of youth, becoming ghouls.

For my argument against abortion, see this post.