I had a dream my house was burning down. Everyone in my family was running around frantically grabbing things they desired to save. I stirred awake on the living room couch in the midst of the commotion. I stood as everything I had ever known began to swirl up in flame, wrapped my blanket around myself and grabbed my pillow, walked through the fire to the door leading to the basement where my room is located, made my way to my own bed, curled up, and fell back asleep.
I woke up this morning coughing uncontrollably.
Maybe I should quit smoking.
The smallest unit of Time is a moment. A moment dies the instant it comes to be, so that the next moment can occur. That moment ceases to exist immediately as well, and so on, and so on. Since this seems to be the nature of a moment, it is hard to say that something that finds its demise in its own creation is tangible enough to be considered existent. If Time is comprised of constant stream of non-existant occurrences, then one could say that Time itself does not exist. Time is of course relative to all things in the universe, but all things still exist within the boundaries of Time. But Time does not exist.