Friday, October 11, 2013


An old piece of (very short) prose I wrote back in 2011. Thought I would share it here, despite it not being poetry.


When they finally mastered time they realized that the issues were not those of questionable paradoxes. In the end, it was not a concern that I might kill my own grandfather. No, we met our tentative wall much earlier when we realized the issues with displacement - like dropping a ball into a tub of water, of forcing it in and under. They were terrified of literally displacing the universe.

The fix came with the discovery and exploration of the extra positionary states of atoms. Using this new data, they could make travelling more like viewing the world through a glass sphere, or a large window - the things sent back existed in a strange “other” state, a quasi-dimensional super-space that hitched a ride alongside the main “real” plane. To those past peoples, it would be as if a ghost - ethereal, unseen, and unknown. Touching nothing, interacting with nothing. Everyone applauded and declared how amazing and smart human potential was.
But the cost was too great. We could not risk the destruction of matter - that was an uneasy precedent that humanity as a whole was unwilling to cross. So it was forbidden, written into law, at least until a better solution was found, a work around.

We were given medals, the scientists who made the machines, who did the research, who glimpsed, however briefly, into the past. But it wasn’t enough. I for one became entranced, addicted, obsessed. I used one of the machines before it was destroyed, the prototype. I entered myself into the slip of time. They didn’t know, so they didn’t call me back, return me to my own place in the universe. They destroyed the machine. That was my cost, my price for unfolding the hands of the clock.

And yet, as I exist, unraveled and barely conscious, now, I cannot feel regret. I will live these next years , and for who knows how long, until I reach the time I left, and even then I will continue on, and watch the future I left behind unfurl, unable to touch or taste or hold any of it in my arms.

But I don’t care. That is the cost I accept. For now I will sit by and cherish every second, watching you and I. Watching us meet, that chilly day in November, watching us fall in love, remembering the taste on my lips. Watching the love through my own eyes, oblivious. I know I will watch us grow older, how the story goes. Our children, our hopes and dreams.

But this time, I swear, this time I will be by your side as you die, like I had promised. I’ve got one more chance to make it right.

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