Tag: time travel

Postcards from strange days

eskaftun
Image of impressionist painting
Dear Laurie,
The fires burned for so long that we prayed for rain. Flooding drowned other countries and states, but here in the west we burned. So despite having lived through the most depressing winter of punishing gray, drizzling and pouring precipitation that stole all color from the world and sapped our will to live, we collectively turned our faces to the heavens to beg for its return.
Did the heavens smile on us? It’s hard to say. The rain is … different from before. At least it’s not gray.
Best,
Lucy
Image of Mette Tronvoll's "Isortoq Unartog nr. 6"
Dear Alma & Stacy:
The locals have myths about spirits that inhabit the swimmin’ holes here, with specific gifts you’re supposed to bring them. Jimmy sought a beautiful sprite who, according to legend, would “make the world seem infinite.”
The sprite didn’t look like we’d imagined, and it regarded Jimmy with disdain. Maybe the candy he brought was the wrong kind. “I’ll grant your wish,” the being said with utter scorn.
Jimmy started shrinking rapidly. His tiny head dipped below the water, and I tried to scoop him out before he drowned, but he shrunk so fast that soon I couldn’t see him. If he’s alive, I’m sure the world seems a lot bigger to him now.
Regards,
Ellen
Image of the inside of a room in Bergen's Bryggen
Dear Claire,
We’ve seen the unimaginably bright flash of ignition, so I only have a few seconds to write you this pointless postcard, which will surely turn to dust even if the time machine’s flux field deflects the nuclear blast around us. So I’ll just say this: they found us. Even the past is not safe from the invaders, and running to it will only further disrupt history. Already I fear we’ve destroyed the Hanseatic League. Stay away from Mohenjo-daro!
Sincerely,
Dr. Brown
King Oscar Sardines label
Dear Darryl,
When I was a kid caught a magic fish. It wasn’t very big; it could only grant small wishes. I wished to be friends with it, and after that I caught it again and again, wishing for things like sandwiches and good weather and luck as a fisherman. As the years passed, technology let us catch millions of tiny fish, but I stopped seeing the magic one. I did, however, once release a magic dolphin from our nets. In return I asked him about my fishy friend. The dolphin said, well… he’s in one of these tins.
Will we know him if we eat him? I’ll keep trying until I find out.
Love,
Eli

Want your very own postcard story? You can buy one here.
Wondering WTF this is? Start here.

Postcards: Mostly monsters

eskaftun
Image of a rather flat & linear volcano
Dear… London?
We aren’t sure where to send this, actually.
We thought it was just another volcanic eruption. A mound rose and cracked open with fire. Point after point of fire, a ridge of it.
But then it got strange—the whole ridge reared up, shook, pushed itself up on giant fiery limbs. The points of flame now stretched vertically, a titanic spine.
We feared the creature would ravage our cities, but it strode right over Reykjavik and into the sea. It sniffed the air with a crackling black maw, and headed southeast into the ocean, water boiling behind it.
So beware, cities of Europe. The creature hungers for more than we could provide.
Love,
Iceland
Image of geometric rock formations
Dear Pokemonsters,
I see you everywhere. With your orange feet, your black tail feathers, your tiny, tiny wings, and beak full of silvery fish.
No one told me you’d be so hard to catch! I asked Mario, in his woollen hat. He shook his head and pointed this way, and all the furry Pac-Men he was herding only baaed at me the way they do.
So I kept walking, and I came to this final level. I’ve tried, but the rules keep changing! Tetris now? It seems I must climb to reach you in your sea-side rookeries. But the blocks won’t stop moving!
What do you mean I need a phone to play this game? What game?
Love,
Sybill
Image of waves rushing through an arch of rock
Dear Heidi,
There are trolls in the rocks, we were told. Take care not to anger them. But your husband scoffed when our guide said there was a spirit in the archway.
It was a beautiful day, but suddenly clouds blew in from nowhere. The sky darkened and the ocean roiled. The archway started to look like the maw of a beast, and the rocks above like squinty evil eyes. We all took a step back.
All but your husband.
I’ve never seen the ocean move the way it did. The tide rushed through the arch like it had been sucked. Your husband went through too, but we never did see him come out the other side. There was a small search effort, but once the locals learned he’d angered a troll the case was closed. You will never see him again. With condolences,
Roy
Postcard of Beit Shean, Roman amphitheater in Israel
Dear Morty:
I’m not sure when we are, because the gauge snapped off the time machine along with the reverse gear. Thankfully, we were in the past at the time. We’d wanted to see Jesus preach, but by the time we stopped it was all bird-headed men, and slaves were constructing the amphitheatre. Did you know the gods of ancient Egypt were real?
Real and really terrifying. We jammed the lever into fast-forward, heading home. When we stopped, the ancient city was a ruin. As it was in our time. But the parking lot was a ruin too. Our home was gone, and the college, and the only humans we saw were slaves again.
I think we overshot. Too bad about reverse gear, huh? Here’s hoping time is a circle!
Missing you,
Eli

Want your very own postcard story? You can buy one here.
Wondering WTF this is? Start here.

Fiction: “Those Time Travel Leaves Behind”

eskaftunLeave a comment

The following is politically relevant Back to the Future fan fiction that I wrote just after the election. Since it is probably un-sellable as fiction, you can read it as a freebie!

My name is Jennifer Parker, and I’ve lived my whole life in a little California town called Hill Valley.

Yes, that Hill Valley. The one with the massive eyesore casino. The one that gave us President Tannen.

I didn’t vote for him. In point of fact, most of the country didn’t vote for him. But Biff Tannen never cared much for the rules. I know things about him… Continue reading “Fiction: “Those Time Travel Leaves Behind”” →

Postcards: Wish you were now

eskaftun
image of an old car in Havana
My Dear Love,
Writing this is pointless, as you will never read it. If you had lived long enough to receive it, I’m sure I would have seen you already. The car stalled. I am marooned in what must be a dystopic future. This apparently once-great city is crumbling, as though this were not the future. The locals are familiar with automobiles of the sort the time machine is built into, but they cannot help me repair it. I will keep trying, but time being what it is I know that I have already failed. If I had not, surely my breakthrough—time travel works!—would have changed the world for the better. Surely, it could not have produced this world.
Yours in time,
Emmett
Postcard of bunks in Bergen's old bryggen
Dear Time Travel Tours,
I tried calling your toll-free number, but my cell phone just wouldn’t connect. I must have the wrong type of sim card. Anyway, I wanted to tell you that I am not a happy camper. Sure, Bergen’s Bryggen is impressive this way, bustling with traders instead of troll figurines and moose underwear. But the accommodations leave much to be desired, and the tourist activities are tedious and repetitive. Back breaking, one might even say.
I know it may take you centuries to get this postcard, but when you do, please send for me right away.
Ready to go home,
A dissatisfied customer
Postcard of a stave church in fall
Dear Tom,
My time travel adventure is going very well. I’ve watched pyramids being built and Stonehenge assembled. Following the builders has been tricky—wouldn’t have managed it in the old DeLorean time machine, even with hover conversion, so thank you for souping this baby up.
The builders are about to move on from this site. I overheard one of them tell the locals they were heading to China to build some more of these churches, and maybe a big wall. At least I think that’s what they said. It was hard to hear over the whirring of their warp drive.
Sincerely,
Doc Brown

Want your very own postcard story? You can buy one here.
Wondering WTF this is? Start here.

More Postcards!

eskaftun
Postcard of Håkon's Hall in Bergen

Dear mom & dad,
I found the church where you were married. Just like in the old photograph, the roof like a staircase leading up to God. The happy couple radiant in black & white. Flowers, & the imagined sound of church bells.
When I was young you told me, “Leave the past be.” But I’m only human. When the machine fired up, how could I resist? A simple trip, a chance to stop a war, to save lives. It worked.
So here is the church from the old photograph. I do not know what became of the happy couple, the flowers. The church bells are not ringing. I really hope you receive this postcard.
Love,
Your son, the time traveler

Dear mom,
Jeremy isn’t coming home.
First, dad dared him to wear a sparkly pink hat we saw. He said he’d pay 1000 NOK if he wore it for an hour (about $167 USD). So of course he put the hat on. But then people started shouting & running. There was a monster in Trondheim! I never saw the monster, but I heard something about snakes. We ran & hid in an alcove off the ground. I closed my eyes. When I opened them, Jeremy had turned to stone.
The doctors say there’s nothing we can do. And dad refuses to pay, saying that the hat is no longer pink or sparkly.
Anyway, I’ll be home soon. Love to the cat!
Emily

Postcard of stone dude at Nidaros

Want your very own postcard story? You can buy one here.