fiction stories
  3
  •  
  0
  •   3 comments
Share

chronosbandit
chronosbandit A temporal fugitive…
Autoplay OFF   •   6 months ago
When you can’t move on from what you've lost, the worst thing you could ever do is go back in time. The Eternal Fall of 1995: A temporal fugitive’s confessional.

12/23/1995 12:01 AM The Apartment Christopher Salvatore (Age 20)

My keys slammed down onto the table. Wallet. Voice recorder. Cell phone.

My keys slammed down onto the table. Wallet. Voice recorder. Cell phone. No.

My keys slammed down onto the table. Wallet. Voice recorder. Cell phone. No. No cell phone. It's 1995. I don't have one of those little monstrosities yet.

What I have is an answering machine crammed with messages I am never going to listen to.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Spark, a blue-haired love goddess asks, taking off her headphones. I ignore her.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Spark, a blue-haired love goddess asks, taking off her headphones. I ignore her. That's easy to do.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Spark, a blue-haired love goddess asks, taking off her headphones. I ignore her. That's easy to do. She isn't really there.

I shower, washing away the grimy residue of the Manhattan air, but I can't wash away the soaked-in regrets.

Another semester over. It had, until a few days ago, been bliss. I'd been surrounded by my twelve-person tribe--my closest friends and the woman...

Another semester over. It had, until a few days ago, been bliss. I'd been surrounded by my twelve-person tribe--my closest friends and the woman... ha...

Another semester over. It had, until a few days ago, been bliss. I'd been surrounded by my twelve-person tribe--my closest friends and the woman... ha... women I loved most dearly.

But that house of cards had come crashing down. I was probably never going to talk to three of them again. Another two had forever fled the city. One was about to get himself arrested.

And while two were newly in love, at least another three of us were heartbroken.

One of us was probably dead.

"I know you're disappointed," Spark said, "But you can endure this. You can let go. See what tomorrow brings." I looked to the bright orange walkman/time-machine turning away in her lap.

"And if I don't want to move on? " I asked. Then I lunged for the walkman and, pulling it away from her, pressed the rewind button.

"No!" she screamed.

"No!" she screamed. But it was too late.

I was plunging into the deep sleep of a temporal fugitive.

When I awokeit was September 23, 1995. Yet again I had failed to let go. Yet again I'd broken the thread of time and space.

And I didn't care. I was so happy to be right back at the beginning.

Back in the Eternal Fall of 1995.

Stories We Think You'll Love 💕

Get The App

App Store
COMMENTS (3)
SHOUTOUTS (0)