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June 18, 2009

Thursday

You've built a time machine.

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After countless days that went on without end, I tired of the monotony of office life. To remedy the extreme boredom that often takes place between 2 and 3pm, I devised an apparatus to ensure the swift movement of time. People would consider the apparatus to be a time machine. This would be wrong as ‘time machine’ implies movement forwards and backwards in time. The horror of being subject to multiple afternoons between 2 and 3pm encouraged me to exclude the ‘backwards’ direction from my apparatus. My apparatus only moves forwards. Unfortunately the maximum speed is one second per second.

Posted by: Soraya at June 19, 2009 12:42 AM · Permalink

‘You’ve built a time machine? A woman of many talents, you are!’

‘I need to find her … I should have listened to her.’

‘I would have done the exact same thing … listened to the story, played the game a little, had a chuckle to myself, then dismissed it. Don’t be too hard on yourself.’

‘But now she’s gone. If I’d listened to her, I could have stopped her, or at least gone with her. She’s only eight years old, for goodness sake. She’s too small to travel alone … oh, my darling girl, please be okay.’

‘I’ll come with you Kate.’

Posted by: Annonymous S at June 19, 2009 5:04 AM · Permalink

He would go back to 2am the previous night for just 5 seconds. The machine whirred. There was a hazy blur and he was in the upstairs bathroom. The digital clock on the sink read “2:00”. It had worked!

He fumbled through his pocket and found his lucky marble. He hurriedly dropped it on the floor as the machine started to whirr again.

He ran to the bathroom and was surprised to see his father there. Dad did not look at him as he said “Pa slipped on your marble; he hit his head on the pot. He is dead.”

Posted by: koonal at June 19, 2009 7:34 AM · Permalink

George had always longed for a three day weekend. Just one extra day, one day of relaxation, once all the chores and jobs and tasks were out of the way.

And so he built a time machine, used it, and called the new day Notoday.

George’s wife had also always longed for an extra day at the weekend. Just one extra day, one day of getting George out of the garage or the shed or the basement to spend with her, once his so called chores and jobs and tasks were out of the way. One day to feel wanted.

Posted by: Nicholas James at June 23, 2009 6:29 PM · Permalink