Author: Alexander Fawn

She was standing in front of her full-length mirror.

She’d been trying clothes on for nearly an hour. She took out another pair of slacks. Pulling them on, she knew there was no way of zipping them up to the waist. She struggled out of them and threw them onto the bed, with the others. It was the same with the blouses she had tried. Nothing from last year fitted her. Even the lovely suede jacket she’d bought in Spain was too tight. She looked at the pathetic pile of unwearable clothes she’d tossed across the room. Something would have to be done. It was time to get tough with herself. All those delicious high calorie comfort foods would have to go.

She had read about the latest diet that was supposed to be a game-changer. She would start tomorrow. This time she would make it work. Self-discipline, that was it; that was the answer. No more half measures. She turned to face the mirror. She looked at her reflection and told herself that she was about to turn over a new leaf. As she stood looking at herself, face to face, she saw one eyebrow lift.

It was strange that she couldn’t feel it.

Spooky!

He wanted to watch the original version of the film and time travel was the only way to do it.

He had fond memories of watching the original, but copies were hard to find. Because he was a trillionaire, he wanted to more than just sit and watch it, but would like to do it in the old cinema that has long since been knocked down. The Temporal Corporation could provide what he wanted, but at the enormous cost of 2.5 million. The movie buff was happy to pay for the delight of reliving the drama of the original. He climbed into the chair and was transported almost immediately to a front row seat in the old theatre. With building excitement he waited for the curtains to open.

Sometime later he was back in the chair in the Temporal Corporation’s travel room. Several people were gathered there, waiting for his arrival.

The head of department came forward. “How did it go?”

The man grimaced. “Disappointed… I prefer the remake!”

“We do apologise,” said the corporation man, “you have spent a great deal of money with our corporation and the results were not to your satisfaction.”

He waved them away, because he couldn’t care less. He’d watch the 2043 version.

This is just one of the advantages of being filthy rich…

It would never leave her; never go away.

She wasn’t even from that country, just a visitor. Just someone passing through. Nothing else. At a distance, safely peering through an office window, she watched. Now she carries the images with her wherever she goes. They are always there. It is her own private hell. So many sleepless nights. So many abrupt wakenings. She never speaks of it. Why would she want to describe the events of that day, or discuss the rights or the wrongs of it?

Despite any human failings these people had succumbed to, each of them were as innocent as the day they were born. Who were they? They were just people going about their daily business; office workers, managers, cleaners, delivery people, maintenance workers, or like her, merely visitors to the place where it happened. Whoever they were, for her, they were always there.

Falling silently… dropping to the ground.

He looked into the future and saw the way it was all going.

As a general comment, he’d have to say it didn’t look good. Need any kind of information? You’ll find it online. Everything’s online. Phones, pads and mobile phones are there to get you anything you need. It’s all online. No more newspapers, all gone. If you want news it’ll be on line. It’s all there, online. Music halls and cinemas no longer needed. Everything’s online. Nowhere to buy a music centre, or even a player. They don’t make them anymore. CDs, records and tapes all gone. No need, there’s lots of music online. No more notes or coins. No more banks and no bank tellers to talk to, all gone. All currencies now crypto, all done online. No shops in the high street; even the convenience stores have gone. Whatever it is, you can buy it online. Everything’s online. Libraries are all gone, along with the books. Plug your earpiece in and listen to it being read.

Everything’s online.

And… if you can’t find it online, stop and think, it may no longer exist…

She knew that this day was coming.

The fear of it had been there for some time, and although she knew that it would happen eventually, when the moment came, this knowledge didn’t make it any easier. He knew he had to be firm about it, otherwise the situation would just go on indefinitely. He felt that a clean break was the best way for both of them. After all, he had been tiring of the whole thing for some time. It simply had to come to an end.

“Come on, you know it’s for the best”, he said, doing his best to hide the fact that he was feeling sorry for her.

She was sobbing now. “Please don’t do this. We need to give it more time. I can’t make it if you’re not there for me!”

Pretending that her pleading was not breaking his heart, he said, “No, you’ll be OK. The time has come.”

With that, he pushed her.

The bike wobbled, but she stayed upright as she glided along the footpath. He caught up and helped her off. Her tears had turned to joy as the young girl gave him a big hug.

“Thanks Dad”, she said.

Somewhere, there are people far wealthier than most. Somewhere, there are those much poorer than most. The rich need little attention. Somewhere, there are those who have so little that they are close to starvation and death. Somewhere out there, there are agencies that gather contributions and donations. Somewhere, there are places where these physical and financial offerings are received by the needy. Somewhere, there are volunteers, people who are willing to give their time to help those in need. Somewhere, there are those who give thanks for the work carried out on their behalf. Somewhere, there are those who see how much injustice there is in the world.

Somewhere out there, by the grace of the Almighty, there is hope…

He didn’t want to go to school.

He was being given a hard time by one of the boys in his class. The boy kept calling him a retard. It was true that he was struggling. It was apparent that he was a slow learner. His parents were getting worried about how he was being tormented and were considering either moving him to another school or leaving the district altogether. Complaints they had made to the school had made no difference. For two days running the boy had come home from school crying. Each time he managed to dry his eyes and smile when he got home because he knew his parents where becoming concerned about him and he didn’t want to make matters worse.

The day before, coming home from school with tears in his eyes, the strange old man in the corner house was leaning on his gate and wanted to chat. He didn’t really want to at the time, but he had always liked him and he’d often made him laugh. He hadn’t planned to talk about his problems at school, but for some reason that he couldn’t understand he blurted out the whole story. The elderly neighbour was very interested in what he was told. He didn’t like the thought of the boy moving away and had even asked for the nasty boy’s name and a thorough description of him. He told the boy that sometimes you have to be patient and in time worries simply went away.

As it happened, that day he did go into school and he did get bullied and he did cry on the way home. He looked out for the old man, if only to give him a wave, but he wasn’t in his front garden. It just so happens that the old man had also been at the school, across the road in the shade of a tree. He was waiting for the school bell when the crush of children would come bursting out though the front entrance. He was there, ready to point his gnarled finger. When he did, it had happened so quickly that none of the other kids noticed that one of their number just wasn’t there anymore. Moreover, nobody would have noticed the small insect scurrying away from the trampling feet and making for the bushes.

It probably goes without saying that absolutely no one would believe that there were still wizards around that were capable of turning a schoolboy into a cockroach.

Sometimes it’s hard to know whether to get involved or not.

That is how he felt. She certainly had issues; that was for sure. Day after day he’d watch her out there in the garden, staring up at the tree. He didn’t know whether he should seek advice about it. The fact was, he hadn’t known her very long. Perhaps he should stay out of it. After all, he had problems of his own. He found himself in a precarious situation that posed more questions than he had answers for. There again, it looked as though her problem was greater than his and there was no one else around that could step up and at least offer her some moral support. Yes, he thought, it’s the right thing to do.

He went over and stood nearby. This time, she stopped her crazed gawping and looked at him. That was new, he thought. She smiled and licked her lips.

He smiled back.

She went back to looking up at the apple.

The boss’s email had him confused.

It was a request to make several copies of a notice he attached. He wanted it done as soon as possible, in order that all personnel see it first thing in the morning. It wasn’t a polite request, they never are. He is asked to print off enough copies to display on all notice boards in the office. He sat reading it before sending it to the printer. It was yet another budget cut, an attempt to keep costs down. It states that the printer is not to be used after six in the evening. Then, he gets up, wanders around counting boards; nine in all. When he returns, he checks it for spelling mistakes and any errors.

The confusion began when he glanced at the clock. It was past six. He hadn’t realised how late it was. According to the notice he was about to print copies of, this couldn’t be done until tomorrow. He would have to come into work extra early and get them all run off and posted before the boss gets in; not a problem. Besides, the boss always came in a lot later than anyone else.

However, the next day he found that the office printer had gone on the fritz and nobody could copy anything.

Handling confusion had never been his thing.

He went home…

He had a postulate, but he needed to prove it with maths.

The eminent mathematician needed to validate his theory before announcing it to the world. It was for this reason that he shared his unsolved, yet perfectly feasible theory with no one. He worked tirelessly in the basement of his home in order to keep his work away from the prying eyes of visitors. It was universally accepted that a person travelling at the speed of light would age slower. Therefore, it goes without saying that a person travelling at the speed of lightlessness, or to put it another way, dark, would age faster. Discovering a way of calculating the speed that dark travels was the man’s goal. When he finally cracked it, he made his findings public. Not everyone agreed with them. His formula for the speed of lightlessness, in other words, dark, was accepted with high praise in some quarters and stank in others.

However, the scholar, undaunted by the rebuttal of disbelievers went on with a second great challenge. This second formula, once completed would verify beyond doubt the veracity of the first. He knew that it would take a great deal of time and a lot of really clever mathematics. Once again, he burnt the midnight oil in his subterranean chamber working it out. His intention was to bring together the formulas for the speed of light and the speed of dark. The product of this conjunction would be a formula that, if tested against the known laws of relativity, would allow the calculation of real-time aging in man. Yet again, he managed to produce a definite result.

Unfortunately, there was a disparity, a minor glitch maybe, but a disparity all the same. He then set about putting some mathematical value on this apparent inconsistency. He did this by basing all his workings on himself. When it was finished, he was able to put a figure on the amount of the discrepancy. The answer was fifty-eight. This was the quantified degree of the supposed variation. It was several days before he realised that his latest formula was correct. This came about when he acknowledged the fact that he was indeed fifty-eight years old. This formula had been used to accurately calculate the real-time aging in man!

It took the scientific community and the world by storm. The fanfare went on for ages.

Those left still baffled by it all, just went along with the majority.