Scribbles

It was a long class today. Every minute was about a day by Normah’s internal clock. Mr. Leonard’s voice was slow and boring. She heard his lecture but she wasn’t listening. She took some video with her phone of the boy next to her then started to draw over the frames. She drew a satellite orbiting his big round head. The bell rang. Normah was quite satisfied with herself.

Time Toys

Finally here, the new Time Tweeker 2000. Just attach it to the temporal lobes and you’ll have full control over the way yo perceive time. It’s practically time travel. Stuck in a meeting, just skip it. Forgot what someone just said, rewind your mind. It’s the perfect gift.

 

Warning. Going to far back in time may cause irreparable damage or coma. Only use in locations where you are not likely to be taken advantage of. Never tamper with fail save device.

Time Tech Inc. is not responsible for anything… ever.

Space Elevator

An interesting problem with building bridges into space  relates to time. Objects that move through space and different speeds have different time. So I we build something that reached from the Earth’s surface all the way into orbit it would be warped in strange ways. I wonder, could such a structure even be constructed? I’d like to think so. In  any case it would be hard to accomplish.

time t revel

A person sits in a chair in the corner. Wires trace along the wall from the person to a machine. Two others sit near by.

Something went wrong a few years ago in the lab. There is still brain activity but it is very abnormal. People can operate almost any piece of equipment with a thought and yet we are still powerless to understand what is going on inside this person’s head.

This one is trapped inside itself. The rest of us are captives of conflict and fear. If we can’t fully decode the human brain how can we ever decode the human heart?

Meanwhile, the person in the corner lives life in reverse. The individual’s body is 57 but the mind is now 53. This will continue for another 53 years, at which point the mind will unteather and split. Part of consciousness will continue backward in time from gametes to parent cells. Another part will drift through the cosmos experiencing the birth and death of a star, the rise and fall of sentience, and the flow of energy from our universe into the next. Then the body will die and all will come to a close.

Dusk. The greenish glow of the machines fills the room with silence.

quarter

the quarter lay there wedged between the girder and the concrete. the crowds pass close by unaware of the small treasure. the quarter spends its days weighing the value of currency in exchange for for purposeful ponderings. everyday for a few minutes it catches a glimpse of the sun just before the foot traffic wanes to a stop for the evening. adjacent buildings are eventually turned down and rebuilt in dynamic sweeping fashion. the roads and train tracks ascend higher, weaving through the skyline. the clacking of foot traffic transforms into a melodic hum. the quarter remains an isolated entity in a sea of change.

age and size

I recently took a vacation to visit some neighbors in one of the nearby star systems. It had been so long since I last visited that I had completely forgotten the physical proporties of the local inhabitants. I had to make my way carefully through the hotel lobby where my old friend Rebecca was living. Infants and elderly dodged between and around my legs. One wrong step could easily lead to a lawsuit, or worse. Luckily most little people know that they are little and do not want to be stepped on. Still, as an outsider there is always the danger of being taken advantage of, or so old humans like me tend to beleive. A local teenager towered over me in the elevator. I finally arrive.

“My goodness, you look awful Jeffrey.”

“I never did get used to these queer parabolic lifecycles. It is good to see you in person again, Rebecca.”

“It’s good to see you, too. You know, the human lifecycle used to be pretty parabolic, too. We may not have started and ended our lives at only a few inches as the locals do, but we were still far more similar than different.”

“I’ll take your word for it, you were the genetic historian after all.”

“Come sit down and have some tea with me.”

I smile.

We always let far too much time pass between visits.

Magic Lamp

My Grandma just left me alone in the attic with her favorite lamp. She said that I must never touch it. I’m going to be living here for one month. The lamp is on the very edge of a very old table. I am moderately concerned for the safety of said lamp.

Two weeks have gone by. I just tripped over a wrinkle in the carpet. I almost broke the lamp. I guess I’ll have to be more careful.

I made it to my second to last day. The lamp has not been broken.

Oh no. I broke the lamp. It was my last day and I broke it. When I broke it an evil genie came out and killed everybody in the whole town. Everybody dead, even the kittens and squirrels. All my fault. Maybe it was just a dream.

Oh good it was just a dream. I can see that the lamp is still there. Just a dream…

Shadows of the Wandering Mind

Whenever our mind wonders into the realm of infinite possibility it creates a shadow world. Such a world  exists permanently, from that moment to forever more. I once traveled to one of these shadow worlds myself. I lost consciousness while staring into a very old mirror in the attic. I had been thinking about the past. My old teacher was in my old classroom. She asked me to take my seat. Just like that I was back in the sixth grade. After a while, I realized that the lesson didn’t make sense. My teacher was mixing things up. When I looked at the room more closely I discovered that it was incomplete. Many books lacked definition. Posters were illegible. Colors were somehow wrong, bland. Then I realized that most of the students didn’t quite have face. Yet, they were staring in my direction. I got up out of my seat and backed toward the classroom window. Mrs. Pterin said, “Angie, please return to your seat.” Her face was morphing, perhaps I couldn’t quite remember which of my elementary school teachers were which. I turned toward the window. There was nothing but shifting viscous darkness outside. I began to panic. As the tears began to swell up from behind my eyes, I began to see myself in the glass. I felt someone’s hand on my back. My insides churned and my neck bristled.

I shivered staring at myself in the mirror once again. I suspected that I had just experienced my first lucid dream. It had seemed so real, but how could it be. My father ascended the attic staircase and demanded that I tell him where I had been for the last hour. Apparently my sister had come up looking for me and could not find me anywhere.

I had truly traveled to another place.

Baulo

Baulo was a cursed being. He lived among humans, but could never fully become one himself.

Baulo awoke to the sound of a strangers voice.

Are you alright? How did you get here?

Baulo could not answer because he could not understand.

The stranger’s name was Earl Benton. He was at this moment Baulo’s only friend on earth.

It won’t do to leave you here now will it?

Baulo lived with Earl for three years. He learned the language and learned a trade. He was a carpenter now, a fine one at that.

One windy Sunday afternoon, Earl introduced Baulo to an old friend of his. Baulo and Liola made marvelous companions. Liola returned twice a week to teach Baulo how to play piano. A lesson ran late one night. The moon glowed full through the window leaving blue squares on the carpet and mantle. Before Baulo could protest, Liola touched her lips to his cheek. Baulo instantly turned to stone, just as he had been moments before Earl discovered him.

As always, Baulo would not reawaken for another three centuries. In the mean time, his sturdy figure would haunt many obscure museums before falling into dark boxes in forgotten storage rooms.

Dated

Three people have just finished watching an old film from the 20th century in their comfortable room. They proceed to share their impressions about the film. The film in question is Harold and Maude. Let’s listen in, shall we?

I thought that it was a very interesting film. I especially enjoyed the sense of rebellion that it had about it. I’m not sure I fully understand the end though.

Yes. What exactly happened to Maude?

Maude killed herself.

Well, why on earth would anyone do that?

It is a bit of an outdated ritual these days, but as you might recall there was a person just this last year who did the same thing.

I still don’t understand it.

Was she unhappy? She seemed so happy.

She was old. People had a life expectancy back then and it wasn’t very long. In those days when people got old they started to degrade. She liked being in control of her life.

How interesting.

That’s so sad. Why, I can’t imagine living in such a barbaric age.

I know. It is quite terrifying to think about.

Shall we watch another one of these old relics?

How about this one? The Matrix.

Alright, let’s do it.