Today on Drabble Wednesday we turn back the clock, and push it forward. Come travel the darker lanes of the time stream...
That Competitive Spirit
Rivalry can make a man do peculiar things.
It can devour you, especially if it’s over a woman. That type of rivalry can drive one to madness.
I know. I fell over the brink some time ago when Seymour Danvers married my beloved Emily.
That’s when I first felt hate for the man. When I turned that rage to my pursuit of science.
The best decision I ever made.
For my great achievement in science undid Seymour.
“Dinner’s prepared, Henry.” I smile at the sweet sound of my wife’s voice.
My time machine was very useful indeed.
Looking out the capsule window, I see devastation. Torn black earth, crumbling stone ruins, falling ash, grey skies cascading with streaks of lightning.
How did I get here?
I remember. I’m the first Time Astronaut. I was sent forward ten years, to record our fate.
Surely this is not how we ended a mere decade from now?
No. Something went wrong. There was—there was...
A storm. A time storm.
I look at the chronometer. It reads 30, 879.
No! It’s too far! They can’t get me back!
But no one else is alive to hear me.
My race are the Keepers of Time. We record eons as they pass, hoards of annals tucked away in dimensional pockets of universe. Generations given to writing the histories of the planetary cosmos.
As I was given.
At the heart of our world swirls the Well of Time. It is what we breathe, how we see. We are connected to it through smaller portals, but are forbidden to gaze upon the Well directly.
I did not listen.
I stared into its unending black depths. I felt its ruthless pull, balanced at its edge.
Then I fell.
Into my eternal scream.
© A. F. Stewart 2016 All Rights Reserved