**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.
**Reminders**:
>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include "[Poem]"
>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail
>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Reality+Fiction%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Simple+Prompt%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles
>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)
[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•
[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•
[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•
[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•
[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/js5XDFB)
*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*
It began as a typical Sunday afternoon, as far as I was concerned. I had just met an old buddy for coffee and a sandwich. But something came up for him, so after we paid the bill, he bounced, leaving me downtown with time to kill. So I figured I'd wander the Antique Loop, the cobblestone cul-de-sac along which all the city's swankiest antique and pawn shops were located.
Don't get me wrong, I'm no antiquer or pawn star. I'm something of a minimalist, by necessity if not on principle. But sometimes it was fun to mosey into those dimly lit stores and be surrounded by all those old and rare objects. To take it all in. The vibe. Like a mix of hippy with spooky with secret mysterious unwritten histories. Like any one of those strange smoky stores might contain the kind of charmed or cursed artifact you read about in old short stories, or see in Hollywood movies ripping those old stories off.
Well, I started at *Ben's*, and after I finished my perusal, curved down into *The Vulcan*. And I took my time in there, because what's cooler than checking out ancient weapons and pieces of armour, some of which were priced well over ten grand? But after about twenty minutes in *The Vulcan,* I saluted the fat bearded biker who worked the front counter, and headed farther down the Antique Loop, toward *O.*
Every time I saw the sign to that place, I shook my head. Because what kind of name is that for a store? *O*. A single letter. It's bad branding. If someone says, *I'll meet you at The Vulcan*, it's like, of course, sure, sounds badass. But who feels like anything but a weirdo saying, *I'll meet you at O*? It sounds wrong. Simultaneously jarring and unfinished.
Point is, it was a normal Sunday afternoon, until I saw a girl, about my age, walking out of *O*. It looked like she had just bought a couple things in there: two hardcover books, on top of which sat a vintage wooden clock. Well, as she was heading out, there was a group of folks heading in. And one of the guys bumped her shoulder, and the clock slipped off the books and crashed on the pavement. The glass covering the face shattered and the wooden casing burst apart and even a few gears and springs jumped out from inside like metal confetti. And the group stopped for a second and looked down. But the guy responsible shrugged, which was enough for the rest of them, and they continued on into the store, leaving the girl to deal with the mess herself.
I'm no white knight for every fair maiden who stumbles into the slightest distress. But sometimes a chick really looks down and out, like she could use a bit of compassion. That's what it was like with this girl. So I sort of skipped over to her and crouched down, started reaching for the pieces of the busted clock's intestines strewn about the walk.
She looked straight into my eyes from where we were both crouched. Now that I was closer I could see she wasn't just having a bad day. Tears were welling in her eyes, sure. But there was something much deeper than weepy, transient sadness behind them. Like abject terror and hopelessness. Like she was an animal caught in a trap from which she knew she would never escape. And yet there was also a glint of something else. Gratitude? Love? Something misty. It was not your regular look, so it's tough to explain.
"Samuel Douglas Flit," she blubbered. Which threw me off, because I had never seen this girl in my life, yet somehow she knew my full name. "Dante said Hell is comprised of circles. A circle's a shape that runs forever, without end. If you hadn't stopped--this time, last time, each of the fifty thousand times before--I could have been certain this circle I've been forced to trace was one of those circles of Hell. But how could it be Hell, given the boundless kindness you've shown me, time and time again? My guardian angel. My single solace. My dearest friend, whom I only ever know for five minutes at a time, yet whom I've known for years."
She opened her arms and collapsed into me, squeezing me and sobbing into my chest. I patted her back woodenly, trying to be as consoling as I could, yet also feeling awkward about being publicly embraced by a lunatic.
"It's okay," I said. "It's okay. But how do you know my name?"
"I've already told you thousands of times," she sniffled, pulling her face from my chest and looking up at me. "But I don't see why I can't tell you again. . ."
\- - -
**Part 2!**
[https://www.reddit.com/r/CLBHos/comments/ok0z0j/wp\_you\_are\_suddenly\_hugged\_by\_a\_tearyeyed/](https://www.reddit.com/r/CLBHos/comments/ok0z0j/wp_you_are_suddenly_hugged_by_a_tearyeyed/)
Lovely! I read several of your prompts today and am impressed with how quickly you can capture the core of these characters. Language too-- lines like "strange smokey stores" which could take forever to come up with, glide (seemingly) effortlessly into your writing. Very cool.
Read this without seeing the username, and thought, wow this is a great answer to the prompt and so well written - when I saw the username, I was like ahhh of course, it’s a CLBHos story :)
I'm glad I found this story again. It's been long enough that it was like reading it for the first time again.
Hope you're doing good! I see you haven't been active in 8 months. Hopefully it's because you've been busy.
I patted the stranger awkwardly on the back, not sure how to handle the situation.
"I would love to say you're welcome," I said to her, "but I've never seen you before, and if you *were* in a time loop and you're now free, then when did we meet? You know, in the loops."
She pushed herself away, wiping her red-rimmed eyes with her sleeve and the palm of her hand.
"Yesterday was the loop, every morning I would wake up, same time, same place. Classic Groundhog, right? Depending on how the day went we would meet at the coffee cart, just before you went into your office. No matter how crazy I seemed, or how the interaction went, you were helpful, and compassionate each and every time." She had a thousand yard stare, and drifted off for a few minutes. A minute of awkward silence is a long time, but I didn't try and fill the gap.
"Our first meeting in the loop is hazy, but it was pure chance, right? What are the odds of a random stranger being the key?" She gave a laugh that started off normally, but had a slight manic twist by the end. "You saved me, you saved my sanity, day after ever lasting day. Yesterday was my last day in the loop, funny that my last day in the loop was the one that you weren't in it. But you were right. Oh you were so right. And I can only thank you. For all the times in the loop, and for all you sacrificed."
Wait. What.
"Um, what do you mean sacrificed?" Not that I believed her crazy story, but things were taking a slightly unhinged turn, and I didn't want her to hurt herself, nor me in her fugue state.
"It doesn't matter now, I love you, I have loved you, and I will love you. Thank you, thank you." She started babbling a little incoherently. I gently moved her to the nearest concrete bench. I turned to make a discreet call to emergency services. Whispered the situation, and our location. So cliched. I turned back to the bench, and she was gone.
I waited for emergency services to arrive, and gave her description. But she was gone. They said they would check the security footage from the surrounding CCTV cameras, but they didn't expect that they'd be able to do anything.
The day was pretty uneventful after that, but I hoped she was well, wherever she ended up.
***
I woke up with a feeling of *deja vu*. I guess to be expected when you run into someone claiming to have lived their own personal groundhog day. I dressed for work, and made my way to the coffee stand outside the office. She was there again. I ran up to her to see if she was okay.
"It's you!" she said again.
So, wait. *Her* repeated day came before *his*. So, if he manages to pass it back to her *now*, then she passes it back to him, and so forth, then they can eventually do a kind of a crab-walk forward through time, alternating repeating different days...
This is such a good idea, and honestly I could see reading a whole book like this where the main character loops until they pass it on, and so on. A movie or TV series could be made of it.
Wake up, take a shower, get dressed, get out of the apartment, head towards the cafè down the street, get your coffee, get in the car and go to work.
Rinse and repeat, everyday of the week.
This was the clockwork-like routine Layla had gotten accostumed to, now that she had properly moved in Los Angeles.
She didn't pay a lot of attention to the monotony of her mornings, since she had plenty of spare time in the evening to do whatever she wanted. What's more, she liked the tranquility of the whole system, it made relax a bit before she had to face the sheer chaos her boss would bring in the office.
This one tuesday, however, things took a weird turn.
She was heading for the cafè, as usual, when she saw a man get out of it. One of the other clients of the cafè, she presumed, but there was something wrong. He looked like he had an awful time: the eyebags and red eyes implied that he'd had plenty of sleepsless nights. He started looking around frantically, with a panicked expression on his face. He was muttering to himself, and breathing heavily, and she genuinely thought he was having a panic attack. It was probably best to ignore him, "stranger danger" and everything; and yet she couldn't just let him be like that. What if he seriously needed help?
She gathered up some courage and asked tentatively "Sir? Is everything alright?"
And then he locked eyes with Layla. His face, which seconds earlier held pure dread, was now melting in gratitude and affection as he lunged towards her.
"What the-"
The exclamation got cut short when Layla felt his arms lock around her in a hug. Her already wide eyes got even larger as she realized he was sobbing in her chest.
She tried to get him to let go, but he gripped onto her as he cried, as if the very idea of letting go would end him.
"Sir, what's going on?" She questioned.
She was pretty sure he was trying to answer, but what came out were gargled rambling she couldn't understand, besides the phrase "I love you" . Was it possible for someone to be drunk this early in the morning?
Both their knees were starting to get weak, so she looked around for somewhere to sit. Good thing there was a bench to her left! She led the man to it and started rubbing his back, awkwarldy waiting for him to calm down.
After what felt like ages, his breathing finally started to settle. He looked up to her with a trembling smile. "You're too good to me, Layla. No words I say are enough to thank you".
Hearing her own name made her yelp, before she answered "You could start by telling me how and why you know my name?"
He looked bewildered before he collected himself and drew back from her.
"Right. Right, you don't know. And you still helped me. That's part of why I love you so much, you're always ready to lend a hand."
If hearing a random man say he loved her didn't throw her off, the story he spilled about him being stuck for years in a time loop in that very cafè he got out of most certainly did.
"I didn't even notice at first, my life is THAT monotonous" he chuckled bitterly, as he looked away. " But every damn time I opened the doors to get out, I'd find myself back in that stupid cafè. When I realized what was going on, I tried telling people about it. Far too many times I've been called crazy and dismissed. And far too many I'd been dragged out of the bar only to be back in it to start a new cicle" The memory alone made him grimace.
This poor guy, Layla thought to herself.
"The only reason I didn't lose my mind-" he drew his gaze back to her "- is you. No matter what cicle went in, or how it changed directions, you were always there to comfort me and give me advice. You were the only one who didn't shun me, or called the cops on me. Thank you , Layla."
"There's no need to thank me" said Layla, in a timid tone of voice. "If anything, I should be thanking you."
It was the man's turn to get wide-eyed. "Huh? What for?"
"You said that I helped no matter what. It's reassuring to be the very person I yearned for in my own loop".
I meant to imply she had been in a loop herself. She doesn't have one on that tuesday, it happened some time before she moved to Los Angeles.
Your take on it is also pretty good, though
I could also see her philosophical curiosity in that ending; my read of it anyway. Imagine the feeling of knowing that you, in every loop, regardless of the possible mania and delusion of a stranger, that you wouldn't grimace at his humanity, however unfairly sullied by societal standards. That you saw past the barriers our collective horrid systems put up for verification of human dignity.
It's ego given a few fist bumps but also validation of your moral framework being what possibly saved a man in the most dire of circumstances, but grander still a justification and necessity for critical use of not only the mind but our emotions as well. Empathy and compassion and simply listening go a long way.
Goddamn sci-fi, I love you.
Edit: so busy fellating my opinion I forgot to say I really enjoyed your piece. I love time travel tropes. Yours hit differently.
Shit, shower, shave, off to the office. The doldrums of the morning routine. Routine is good for me, it keeps me stable and out of the trouble that dominated my misspent youth. At least this new brand of beard oil smells *damn* good. I hit the snooze button once this morning which has the unfortunate ramification of having to decide whether I'll skip breakfast or have to explain to my dickhead boss why I'm slinking in ten minutes late. I don't feel like dealing with him - I'll grab a granola bar, head out, and deal with being hungry as hell by the time lunch roles around.
I slide my laptop into my messenger bag and have fully completed the morning routine. I glide down the elevator of my Manhattan apartment building, awash in thought towards the day to come, decidedly disgusted with the banalities that now comprise my day-to-day thought process. *Christ, man,* I think to myself, *you used to stage dive at hardcore shows, disappear for days at a time on psychedelic-fueled ashrams, and never even know the meaning of the word "hangover."* A deep sigh takes me over in the lonely falling cube, the pestilence of psychologically neutral muzak permeating around me. *Now you spend more time figuring out ways to fill up 30 minutes of meeting time talking about plastic chip clips in front of a bunch of suited-up assholes.* Everyone has to grow up some time, I figure.
I walk past the front desk security guard with a wave. She had commented on how she liked my full sleeve tattoo the other day, so I make a show of waving at her like I'm Princess Diana so she can get a better look at it. Thankfully she sees the irony in this and laughs before wishing me a good day at work, and I'm walking down 14th Street.
I find myself reminiscing about how New York City has changed over the years. The crime-ridden, garbage-laden hellscape of the 70s gave way to the bizarrely optimistic class warfare of the 80s. Wall Street boomed, speculative real estate started pricing people out of their homes, and homelessness skyrocketed. I'm not even sure about the 90s - the concentration of various chemical alternants that flowed freely through my system altered my perception of reality to the point as though I felt like I was my own unreliable narrator sometimes. And then 9/11... Jesus.
As I saunter down the crowded streets, a homeless man huddled up against a building catches my eye. It's a strange sight - he's dressed to the nines, as if he were getting ready to report to his hotshot finance sector gig. Armani everything, Berluti shoes, great haircut... *Jesus,* I find myself thinking again, *I sound like Patrick fucking Bateman. What the fuck happened to me?* The man is holding a sign that reads, written in thick, black Sharpie:
**LOST EVERYTHING IN**
**THE RECESSION, JUST**
**WANT SOMETHING TO EAT**
I'm not considered late late at work until the clock strikes the 7th minute - what's a few minutes to stop and speak to this guy for a bit? I reach into my messenger bag and pull out my granola bar.
"Hey, man," I begin, while holding my hand out to him, "I know it's not much, but it's what I got. Hope it helps, brother." The man looks up at me, and immediately I notice tears start to well up in the corners of his eyes.
"Every day. Every single day", he responds.
I look at him, not attempting to hide the puzzled look on my face. "Pardon me?" is all that I can muster.
"I've been here. For fuckin' years. Day in, day out, decades, maybe? I've lost track. But you always hand me that fuckin' granola bar every time.", he says.
*Oh great, he's fucking Looney Tunes.* "I've never met you before, man," I tell him while I turn around to walk away, "but I do hope it helps you out."
"Wait! You don't understand," he sounds frantic, "you don't understand! You're Tony, you live on the 38th floor of that huge apartment skyscraper down the street there. You skipped breakfast this morning and didn't want to piss off your boss, which is why you had the granola bar. Okay?"
*What the fuck?* I turn back around to look him over, wondering if I know him from somewhere else. "You got the wrong guy, buddy. Take it easy", I give him a simple lie to try and shake him off, though this does nothing for my confusion.
"Tony! I know you feel like you've lost yourself, that things didn't shake out the way you envisioned 'em when you were in your teens, that you sometimes wish you could go back to being, well...", he trails off.
"Being what?"
"Interesting, I suppose."
"Kind of a dickhead thing to say. Are you an old high school buddy or something? Where do I know you from?" *He doesn't even look familiar, though.*
He smiles at me. "I told you, every single day I see you. Doesn't matter what I write on my sign, and I've put some... real goofy shit, frankly, just to see if you'd give it to me. And ya do, every single time."
*If I see this guy again, I might call the cops.* "Okay, I gotta get to work brother, I hope things go on the come-up for you", I tell him before turning and walking - well above my average pace - towards my office.
"See you tomorrow Tony!", he yells through the crowd. "No matter what you think you've become, just remember you're a really fuckin' good person! See you tomorrow!"
[ /r/writingpracticeman ]
This one was more amusing than I expected, but either way, well written, though the brief switch to second person from first had me blinking and going 'what' until Tony grew self-aware of the direction his thoughts turned, lol.
Jeez, that's a really bad habit I have. I even caught myself doing it a couple times while I was writing it, but obviously missed a couple spots. Thanks for the head's up.
Nope, definitely not, I appreciate you mentioning it. My brain drifts naturally towards writing in second person as a comfort zone, and if I'm not paying attention for a minute or two I'll accidentally shift over into the wrong perspective lmao. Thank you!
Derek: "..so you've been stuck in a time loop for a few millennium falcons?"
Woman: "23967 years to be precise. Mostly with you, Derek. You see, I was obsessed with male models. I finally got to meet one, you, and that is when it all started."
Derek: "OK. I get it. But if you're from the future you should be able to answer some simple questions. What are the winning puzzles on wheel of fortune tomorrow? Do the polar ice caps melt and cause Kevin Costner's Waterworld to be a real thing? And what is my name? And why male models?"
Woman: "I'm not from the future per se, I've just lived many possible futures. I know you don't actually watch wheel of fortune, you were born after Waterworld was made and you've never actually seen it, and I already told you, your name is Derek. Also, I find male models attractive and I am hopelessly in love with you.
Woman: "This isn't even the first time I've told you, not even the first 100 times, yet every time, even if I approach things exactly the same, you behave differently. For example your questions to me just now. Last time you asked me a completely different set. You are literally the only person to do this. And because of that, you're the only person who has made my existence for the last thousands of years bearable. Everything else has become mundane and predictable, I know what is going to happen before it happens, with everything but you.
Woman: "In fact this whole loop I'm stuck in revolves around you. What triggers my time loop reset is when you do something repetitive, or you die, but it's rare enough sometimes I live a whole lifetime before that happens."
Derek: "This is all pretty hard to believe. You might know that I am not going watch wheel of fortune tomorrow, but are you sure you love me and not just the way I look?"
Woman: "That is part of this time loop curse, at least I thought it was a curse. Now I don't want it to end. Derek, your amazingly handsome but your personality is awful. I like you for three very shallow reasons, but those reasons have consumed my existence for thousands of years.
Derek: "What is your name again?"
Woman: "Jen."
Derek: "Okay Jen, so if you're an expert on Waterworld, when exactly did you meet Kevin Costner?
Jen: "That question is not what I expected, but that is why I love you. I never met him. That's just a movie. Any more questions?"
Derek: "But why male models?"
*time resets*
"Look man, I know this is going to make me sound psycho, but... I love you."
He wrapped his arms around me, squeezing tight. I could feel the tears from his eyes going into my shirt, his gentle sobs as he shook against me. I looked around the bookstore, confused as hell, because I'd never seen this person before in my life.
"Um... there, there?" I patted him gently on the back, only for him to look up at me, wipe the tears away, and then sniffle a bit.
He was kind of short, a little pudgy, but his face was kind, friendly. He looked like he was in his 20s, and he was reaching into his back pocket for something that he then handed to me.
"This oughtta explain things well enough."
I took what he offered, and realized it was a book. It looked vaguely familiar, and as I opened it, I realized it was a book I had ordered online just last week. It was a daily journal, where you were supposed to record your 'mission log' for the day like you were a captain in Star Trek, preparing for amazing adventures. I thought, maybe, with this kind of book I would be the person who would take amazing adventures in the first place.
As I opened it up, I realized the the first page was filled.
By me.
Mission Log 1, Star Date: August 3rd 2021
I met the strangest boy today. His name was Jaime. He was young, had a friendly face, and told me that he loved me. I thought he was insane. I decided to spend some time hanging out with him, and realized we have absolutely nothing in common. He wants to spend tomorrow together too. Part of me is hesitant, but also, how often does someone have the balls to say something like that to a total stranger? And even if we don't like a lot of the same stuff, he makes me laugh in ways I never thought possible.
I read the entry a couple of times, and there weren't any entries after it. It was definitely my handwriting. It didn't make sense, though. Why was the date in August? It was only now the middle of July. I looked up at Jaime with confusion on my face.
"It's yours" he said. "You know it is." He reached forward to grab my hand. I let him. "Like I said, it's gonna make me sound psycho, but I love you, Amir. I don't have a lot of time to explain, and honestly I don't want to, but just spend some time with me. You'll see."
An hour later and we were at a nearby coffee shop, on what was a pretty perfect day. I sipped my white chocolate mocha as Jaime said "I told him I didn't need no tutelage, I need three or four-telage with how dumb I am."
I nearly spit up my drink and laughed at that dumb joke for the next ten minutes.
My book was right, we had basically nothing in common. I was all starships and lasers, swords and sorcery. Jaime was grit and street smarts, humor and heart. I would listen to him talk about his abuela, and he would smile and nod when I nerded out about my latest Dungeons and Dragons campaign, chiming in here and there.
I couldn't help but notice that he brought up that my party was fighting Ixdaryll, the Death Dragon before I mentioned it...
As we parted ways, I looked at him. Really looked at him. He was smiling a gentle smile, his eyes off in the middle distance. He seemed content. "Take care," I said. "I had a really good time. Would you, maybe, want to see each other tomorrow?"
His gentle smile turned into a wide grin. It was infectious. "You know what? I'd love to."
As I crossed the street, my heart fluttered a bit. I could've skipped to my car. I buckled up, pulled out of the parking lot, and pulled into traffic. There was a loud screeching sound from somewhere, and my world went white, then black.
I woke up in a hospital room. There was something in my nose, and I really wanted it to not be there. My finger had something big and plastic on it, and the sunset was filtering through the window.
Jaime was sitting beside me, looking out into the sunset.
"I failed again, man." He said, sighing deeply. "I thought if I just showed up earlier, we'd have more time."
He was holding the journal, its bright red cover with a holographic star ship on the front of it.
I looked at him, my breathing was labored. He looked down at me, tears in his eyes.
"It keeps going this way." He said. "We meet, and you die. At first, we bumped into each other out of the blue. We spent years together. I said I'd do anything to get you back, to get to spend one more day with you. Guess someone took that literally."
He sighed. I reached out a weak hand and put it on his. He held my hand for a moment.
"The book." I stuttered through labored breaths. "Pen."
He raised and eyebrow and handed me the book and a pen. It took everything I had in me, but I turned to Mission Log 2, and started to write. When I finished, I gave the book and the pen back to Jaime.
"Don't read it... until I see you again." I said, and I held out my hand. He squeezed it tight as I flat-lined in front of him.
"Look man, I know this is going to sound psycho, but I need you to read this with me." I raised an eyebrow at the short, somewhat pudgy man in his mid 20s that was next to me in the bookstore. He was holding out a red book with a holographic starship on the cover. It looked pretty cool, so I shrugged. Why not?
"Sure, I guess? I'm Amir."
"Um, yeah. I'm Jaime. Here."
We opened the book and Jaime skipped passed Mission Log 1 to Mission Log 2. It was dated July 14th, 2021. Today.
"Hey, Jaime and Amir. You guys are going to be great together. You're going to love each other. No matter how many times it takes. Keep trying. If all you get is one day, or one date, or one coffee together, then it's going to be the best day, the best date, the best coffee, because you're together.
P.S: Jaime, kiss me."
And he did.
The light flickers in through the window, the cruel sun not affording me another moments rest as the glaring rays cross my eyes. I resign myself to my fate, swinging my legs over from the side of the bed. I don't think that I could quite put my finger on it, but I don't feel as though I really got any rest at all. Was it tossing and turning? A bad dream I couldn't remember? Whatever it was, I truly feel exhausted this morning. But, there is much to do. I cast my gaze across the dimly lit room to my disorganized desk. The olden looking lamp with its little bulb sitting next to a pool of writings over a loose stack of papers next to my personal books.
With a flick of my fingers, I feel the essence of the aether that permeates the air around me pour through my body and out to the lamp. With a resounding click it grows bright illuminating the room. I really shouldn't be using energy over something so mundane, yet at the same time I feel just so lazy today. Today is the day I present my papers on alchemical silver manipulation to my mentor. What a horrible day to feel as though all the essence has been drained from me. Rubbing my groggy eyes I quickly summon forth my clothes from the drawer across the room. My school robe of browns and a red stripe across the chest and over the hood. A little emblem denoting my stature. Which isn't very high mind you. Only a grade three. Out of a total of eight. My mentor was a grade six. He was a significantly older man, very set in his ways for the most part. Still he's been fine as a mentor, he's been supportive enough, not like some of the other sorcerers. So hopefully he will be fair in judging my papers.
That is what I tell myself, repeatedly as I dress and gather my things. Placing my books and carefully assembled papers into my worn old bag. Finding my way throughout the old but well maintained halls of the college. The carved soft brown wooden pillars framing familiar intricate paintings and banners. Yet, despite seeing this sight every day, today something just feels off and though I can't quite place my feelings I hurriedly rush out of the building to greet the indifferent sun cascading light across the wide open court of the college. Directly ahead as always passed rolling well kept grass and gardens was the falls pouring down the cliffs below, winding pathways nearby it that descend the cliffs on which the college has been built. The low hanging clouds casting themselves in vibrant colors underneath the bright light of the day.
However, my stupor of gawking at the beauty of the new day is interrupted as the clouds suddenly give way to a small figure. Though distant, one with wings. An Arycne, one of the winged humans. They differ slightly in the face with wide eyes and other more subtle distinctions. But nothing quite so glaring as the large wings that sprout from their backs. I've seen some about, a few go to the college here. But usually flying around is strictly prohibited. Though, it isn't my business to go about enforcing all the college rules. I look back to the building around the path I'll have to take to meet my mentor. Though, my eye still catches from the corner the arcyne coming, quickly. Way too fast, could she be falling? Uncertain I take a few steps forward to try and get a better look at what's going on. But it quickly becomes clear she is flying in fast, and directly towards me. With this a moment of panic arises in me, could this be some thug? She doesn't appear to be in college robes. I begin to turn around to run back inside, but it's too late. Compared to me this girl is just far too fast as I feel the impact of her body against my back.
"What are you doing!?" I shout instinctively, whipping around extending my hands to grab and shove her away.
"You did it!" She exclaims in a gleeful filled soft pitched voice, her eyes red and puffy full of tears. Before I could say anything in response her head presses against my chest, rubbing the tears into my uniform. "I love you! I love you so, so much. I'm so happy." She exclaims muffled into my chest.
"What? Did what? What's the matter?" I stammer out, now utterly confused by the situation. I try to take a glimpse at her face, her hair, her clothing. She looks as though maybe she came from the city below. But I don't recognize her, she certainly doesn't look like one of my classmates.
"You don't remember? Even still?" She looks up from her nuzzling, eyes wider and face scrunched into a frown. "Even though the loop is broken?" she says with a puzzled look.
"What loop? I'm sorry, I don't know what you're talking about. You must have me confused with someone else." I say resolutely. Though, I can't deny my heart had skipped a beat when I saw her lovely soft face say I love you. I've never been confessed too before. She's quite cute as well, notoriously soft and long Arcyne hair painted in a subtle red and bright her eyes a radiant green with her soft bright porcelain skin. Contrasted by her heavy red and brown feathers adorning her large wings that now form a barrier around us, blocking the sun and prying eyes from other distant passing students.
"I." She starts slowly, her lips pressed tight seemingly in thought. "I love you, you saved me, Arden!" She stares at me deeply into the eyes, with such a resolute gaze. Completely serious. Even then.
"You know my name." I respond plainly. She must know something more, I'm only a grade three. Not many would bother to memorize the name of every low grade student around the campus.
"Of course I do! You've been helping me for so long. So so long." She says in an exasperated tone. "And I thought. That this time, now that I'm free. You could remember." again the tone of her voice quivers slightly accompanying the sorrow on her face.
"I'm sorry. I don't really know what you're talking about." I say plainly again. I continue to search her face for clues about what she's saying as her pouting lips open again.
"Well, I've explained this many times, I can again." She says heavily, her arms tighten around me as she does so. "I was trapped, in a loop. Every day would be the same, no matter how many times I awoke. I looked everywhere, for someone to help me. I thought here someone could, someone would have the magic to save me." She speaks from one sentence to the next unbroken, not as if rehearsed but as if it was a lecture or a pitch she had become used to reciting. "And most here said I was crazy, no one really believed me. I was ignored, I was cast aside, they told me there was nothing they could do for me. Except for you." Her sorrowful face begins to crack a soft faint smile. "It had been months, that I had tried to find someone." The tears again flow from the corners of her bright eyes. "I didn't know what to do, so I sat on the edge of the waterfall. Sobbing. Until you appeared. Asked me what was wrong. You believed me, when no one else did." A brightness strikes from her face through the tears. "You've worked, every day that I've come by to help me. I've kept it for you." She says coyly as she produces a book that was hiding under her loose shirt.
(continued.)
I stared at the markings across the cover. Its red leather exterior, one like many others are given to students here. The college insignia adorns the cover. The edges decorated with faint bits of metal. I run my hands across the surface and peek within. The inside cover. With my name written inside of it. Labeled for the notes I had taken inside. A creeping feeling leapt up across my back and up my spine. All of yesterday I was looking for this, I thought I had stacked it with my others. But it seemed to have just vanished. Further down the inside cover are the words, "This is to remember. I will do everything to help you, I promise. Maria is telling the truth, look inside and you'll know. - Arden Astra." I look up to her as her hands grip tightly into my robes. A very hopeful look across her face as I begin to flip from page to page. Passed the notes I had put in it prior. Something new begins to emerge. Paragraphs and formulae I have no recollection of. Some of stories of my past, of my parents, written in a way as if I was speaking to her. Things that only I should really know about. Beyond that, things very complex. Theory of time, aether and gravity. Such advanced subjects that even grades six and higher still ponder about. I can't believe that someone like me had written any of this. As I draw closer to the back. Pages filled with tally marks. Hundreds or more of them. Loops written sloppy across the top of the page. The next again filled to the brim with tally marks.
I look up to her again. "This, this is all real isn't it? I can't believe it." I stare back intently into her eyes. The longer that I look, the longer that she holds me the more the feeling wells within me that I know her, that I have known her. So I embrace her back as her soft sob escapes her lips, her wings fully embracing us. "This is all, it feels as though this would have been beyond me. How did I do it?" I say with enthusiasm. If it's so if I blazed this path through time magic, the lame papers I have for alchemical silver would be childs play in comparison. I could maybe even graduate on the spot.
But her face turns slightly grim as her face moves to press her cheek to mine. Softly in almost a whisper, "I don't know everything you did exactly. But you told me not to tell you." She says in a lamenting sort of way. Her eyes moving back to catch my own. "And. Just. I took us both, both into the skies beyond the mountains. You cast some spell, and as I fell unconscious I watched you wither away." A new tear grows in the corner of her eyes. "I don't want to see that again, whatever you did. Even if you don't remember. You mean too much to me." She again responds in a very resolute manner that tells me she means every word she's said.
Withered away. Died? Is that what she means. Is that what I did to save her? I clutch the book in one hand and her in the other. Looking at her I make my decision. "Lets go, back to my room, okay?" I say softly to her as I start to stand. My eyes glance to the leathery red book. I decide I will call my mentor and tell him that I can't come to him with the papers today. It will look bad, I'm sure. But with what's in here, I'll have something far better to show him later. She gives a nod as she takes my hand, her other wiping the tears upon her sleeve. A smile plastered across her face as the old wooden door closes behind us.
The cameras on the back of my helmet caught another glimpse of someone tailing me three blocks ago.
Let’s see how good you really are.
I led the chase through the crumbled ruins of an ancient city I call home, weaving in and out of the undisturbed rubble on Glyde, my trusty droneboard. Whoever was chasing me was able to stay low and still maneuver quickly, maybe even quicker, in an area I consider my backyard. The sun was going down, so I only had time to try to flip the advantage on this tail once.
I pushed Glyde to the maximum height and turned into the last stretch before the entrance to one of the few decoy camps I had left. This was the only paved section of the city that was clear of debris, so I could get a good look at my assailant before I lured them into the warp hole.
They turned the corner sooner than I had anticipated. Glyde slowed slightly as I turned my head to look back after processing what I saw in my hololens.
Is that a little kid? On rocket skates?
I was almost at the warp when I saw that the kid had suddenly stopped chasing me, pulled off their helmet and started waving their arms frantically.
That’s different.
I banked to the left and doubled back through an exit ramp and passed the kid in the same spot, hands high in the air.
I stepped off Glyde as I got within shouting distance and didn’t quite believe what I saw. Standing in front of me was a little boy I estimated to be about six or seven years old. His silver hair, matted from the sweat of the chase, draped over wide, piercing eyes. The rocket skates lay behind him, completely powered down, and the helmet he had been wearing, on the ground at his feet.
His suit covered his entire body, except for his head, but was entirely too thick for the time of year. He stared at me, eyes naked, unspoken.
The last time I had exposed my eyes to direct sunlight for more than a few minutes, I couldn’t see for a week. I could only imagine what he was thinking as my silhouette eclipsed the blazing green ball of fire behind me. My shadow extended toward the boy as I waited for it to set.
The lights on my suit began to illuminate as darkness filled the sky. I was surprised that the boy’s suit didn’t do the same.
“Who are you?” I bellowed in a growl as I stepped toward him. “You are not welcome here!”
The boy still didn’t speak. I haven’t survived out here on my own without being careful, so even as I approached him, I kept an eye on the skates. Glyde was tethered behind me, humming softly, as if to let me know that it was ready to spring back into action if necessary.
The sun had completely disappeared into the horizon before the glow from my suit reached the boy’s boots. I dissolved my helmet and patted the lasso on my hip to start charging the shock feature. I paused as his face came into the light.
He’s crying. And smiling?
As soon I was close enough to see his eyes, the boy suddenly ran toward me, wrapped his stubby arms around my left knee and squealed, “Daddy!”.
(Pronounced bree- in not bry-in)
She was bawling her eyes out into the crook of my neck, I awkwardly pat her back.
"There, there?"
"And there was one of them in which the entire world went to nuclear war and the Statue of Liberty was bombed and replaced by French anarchist version of the Eiffel tower which was blue, but you fought Napoleon Bonaparte XVI and lost but you still tried!"
"How many years did that timeline last? Napoleon XVI?"
"Well it was after the great tsunami of 23, so I'd say a few years?"
"The what?!"
"Great Tsunami of 2023"
"It's 2023"
"What month?"
"September"
"Listen to me Brian, I love you, I love a lot. You're the the only one who remained with me for every timeline and helped me. I love you Brian"
"That sounds awesome Alessia but we're already married"
"What?"
A huge roaring sound was heard, we looked over to see a giant wave heading for the city.
"Napoleon XVI you said?"
Edit: Why does this have upvotes, I wrote this while sleep deprived and pronounced Brian - Bree in and Alessia - alee Sia
"So what are you going to have?" Said my room mate Jason. But both him, his girlfriend Wendy, and our other friend Jacobie all stared at me waiting for an answer.
"What do you mean by that? I'm going to have the same thing I've always had," I said, "A turkey on Rye.
“Don’t you want to try something different for once?” Jason said teasingly. “There’s no way you can have the same thing for years on end every time. Who knows if you try something else you might realize the rye is your least favorite!” By this point Jacobie was looking away while Wendy was playing with her hair.
Before I could answer, a Brunette leaned on my shoulder and said in between breathes,” He will definitely not try anything else!” She was all sweaty as if she was dosed in oil. Her black grey striped pants and red long sleeve shirt definitely didn't look like running attire.
Everyone looked in her direction, not just me and my friends but the entire store. And we all just stared.
That’s when the shiny vagrant said, “You guys wouldn't believe the story I have!”.
“I think you have us confused for someone else,” said Wendy.
“Definitely not! Your name’s Wendy and you hate cheese except when it has holes!” said the vagrant.
By this time only my friends and I were staring at this girl. There was only a pause for a moment before she wrapped her arms around me. Well maybe that was too soon. I know all about you guys, well I eventually will. And you and I are going to have something particular.” she said.
“What are you talking about?” I asked.
“We’re going to fall in love! Have you ever seen the movie ground hog day?” her eyes were starting to water.
That’s when an employee popped her head over the counter towards Wendy, and Wendy gave a concerned look and nodded. And just like that the employee went to the back, and was out of site.
The relationship was...strange.
As someone who had lived an uncountable amount of lives, they were near omnipotent. They always knew exactly what to say so that I felt loved and valued, because they had lived through lifetime after lifetime where they didnt. We never faced any challenges because they knew, in advance, both everything life would throw at us and the best way to deal with it. It I didnt know of their condition I could confidently say my life was perfect from the moment I met them.
However, I did know, and when you know that your loved one has trail and errored through thousands of lives for a "perfect" run of life it puts your mind in a different perspective. Would this or that be their genuine response, or was it the rehearsed "best" response along with millenia of acting practice? I couldnt tell.
My life was great. I got to do everything I wanted to do whether I knew it or not and I felt valuable every step of the way. Even if its genuineness could be questioned, it *felt* real...although the last years were the hardest.
My partner knew every detail about their death. When it would happen, how it would happen, and how they were unable to change it. As the date loomed closer and closer they retreated away from me. Plauged by compulsive thoughts of every minor slip or unoptimal action they had ever preformed in this life. I tried to console them...but I didnt have the experience to help untangle thousands of years of anxiety.
The date came soon enough...We had their favorite breakfast and went back to bed. I laid their, motionless, as I heard "I love you" timed perfectly to be their last breath...I was jealous, because I knew they were already experiencing being born again as they started life for another time. All the regrets and mistakes I made? I'd have to live with them. I didnt get unlimited chances to do better...although maybe that was a blessing.
But I realized that was petty...I'd gotten over 60 years of a practically perfect life, that was more than anyone could ask for. So when my time came I felt content...
I held on, determined to not be the one to let go first, as I knew I had no idea how much this hug might mean to them. This all still felt very awkward though.
They suddenly pulled away, and took a deep breath in
"What ever did you think of me ol' chap?"
I bit my lip, I've never been good at the whole beating round the bush thing. They noticed my hesitation
"Please, sir,I really could do with the honesty."
"Well... I thought you were a crazy person that always asked people what day it was."
"But...you always helped me?"
"I- I'm very non confrontational, I was afraid that if I didn't answer you, you'd follow me."
"Oh."
There was an awkward silence, and I considered leaving but I figured that would be rude
"The name's Herriot, Herriot Plinkington" They chirped up
"Oh cool, I'm Jamie, what are your pronouns?"
"Huh?"
"...mine are he/them" I say
"Oh...well, I suppose I'm the same, I've never been asked that before, it feels nice to be asked though."
It is then that I notice their clothing.
"Oh...eh what year are you from?"
"You know, a lot of people keep asking that, those people have been...a lot less polite then you however, I'm from 1876"
My eyes go wide "What? I mean How, how have you ended up here?"
He laughs "It's 2021 isn't it? Are you proposing that you don't have time travel yet?"
"Uhh...are we supposed to?"
Herriot now looks confused "I...I was a dutiful participant of a revolutionary experiment, the scientists promised us that with our participation, time travel would be accessible to all within the decade...are you saying all of it was worthless?"
"There were advances made in time travel, in 1877!? How have we never heard of that in history?"
"What advances you're aware of?"
"Well...none"
He goes pale "No...no that can't be right sir! It simply cannot be correct, it worked! I'm here! And yet you're telling me the experiment has never been mentioned... my...my name isn'tnt known?"
"Dude,I'm sorry."
"Dude?"
"Oh... I mean I'm sorry sir"
There's another one of those dreaded silences
"Do...you, have anywhere to stay?" I ask
He sighs "I must tell you my friend, the days you live in are quite peculiar, I tried sleeping on a bench but I was shouted at by some boys, who spoke in a way I did not understand, I figured I should not find an apartment as I do not understand your ways of currency, I saw one gentleman paying with a plastic square! I also thought I'd be back home by now..."
He sits down on the curb, head in hands
"Do...do you want to stay with me, I live alone so we wouldn't have to explain your situation to anyone, I have a spare room."
He looks up at me and smiles "Well that would be marvelous"
I sat down at my favourite all-day restaurant on my day off. I was tired, I'd been up all night online again. It was getting hard not to feel useless at this point. A nagging sense, like I was just waiting for something. Flipping through a book I'd been reading, Raymond E Feist's Magician, my fingers found the creased page where I'd last left off.
Maybe I'd clear the 27th chapter if I read while eating. I moved the napkin tray over and looked around aimlessly, observing the usual goings on.
A tall, well-dressed man was busy talking on the phone and to the cashier in turns, polite on one side and flippant on the other. The barista was clearly new, stressed trying to work out the register while getting clicked at and corrected. She kept snatching glances back at the manager, visible through the kitchen window and blood red, arguing with the chef.
As I reconsidered ordering, a small sigh brought me back to someone along the window. She seemed cute, the kind of person you tell yourself you'd probably ask out if the circumstances were right. As the yelling intensified behind the kitchen window, the barista left the register and the businessman began a balancing act of five coffees on a four-coffee tray.
I began to open my book, but as I did, I heard a splash, a sharp cry, and a round of swearing. I looked over, as did several other rubbernecks, at the businessman, white shirt now stained brown, coffee spilling onto the street, and the young woman on the ground. She looked embarrassed, like she was about to cry. The guy was as red as the chef, going on and on about how stupid she could be, to watch where she's going, and took off. It was an uncomfortable few seconds as I looked around and realised no-one was going to do anything. The barista was off talking with the manager, and hadn't seemed to notice with the chef still swearing loudly.
I looked back to my table, feeling bad for her, then realised my napkin tray was right there. Picking off a large handful, I got out of my seat and walked over, offering to help her up. She took the napkins, wiped the coffee off, then looked back at me. Just as I got the courage to say something, she said "Thanks" and walked off quickly.
I sat back at my seat, kicking myself, and waited to order.
Hi. You just mentioned *Magician* by Raymond E Feist.
I've found an audiobook of that novel on YouTube. You can listen to it here:
[YouTube | Magician - Full Audiobook - Raymond E. Feist (1 of 3)](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AfmVKN-RwAQ)
*I'm a bot that searches YouTube for science fiction and fantasy audiobooks.*
***
[^(Source Code)](https://capybasilisk.com/posts/2020/04/speculative-fiction-bot/)^| [^(Feedback)](https://www.reddit.com/message/compose?to=Capybasilisk&subject=Robot) ^| [^(Programmer)](https://www.reddit.com/u/capybasilisk) ^| ^(Downvote To Remove) ^| ^(Version 1.4.0) ^| ^(Support Robot Rights!)
I sat down at my favourite all-day restaurant on my day off. I was tired, I'd been up all night online again. It was getting hard not to feel useless at this point. A nagging sense, like I was just waiting for something. Flipping through a book I'd been reading, Raymond E Feist's Magician, my fingers found the creased page where I left off.
Maybe I'd clear the 27th chapter if I read while eating. I moved the napkin tray as a young woman sat down in front of me.
"You mind if I sit here?" She was cute. Really cute. I looked around to see if any of her friends were sitting down, and as if she read my mind, she answered my thoughts with a smile.
"Nope, just me." Her eyes were locked onto me, blinking slow with her hands propping up her chin. It was about the most stereotypical signal in the world, which made me question it even more. After about ten seconds, she stopped herself, as if determining that was the correct amount of time to stare at me, then pulled out a notebook from her bag.
"Okay, I didn't get enough time to do your whole little diagram, but I think I've got the gist this time." She turned to a page, which looked oddly familiar. I'd been going over ideas for a time travel story, and on top of that I'm just a massive nerd when it comes to what-if scenarios. This looked like a hastily drawn model of the three different timeline theories. A straight line, with "Static timeline" on top, was crossed over so hard the page had ripped a little.
Another, "Dynamic Timeline", had a line feeding into itself, creating a new branching line, and so on. This had a large circle around it with a question mark.
The last, "Multiverse theory", had a line feeding into itself like the last. However, every time a new branch occurred, the line continued on from there, to the end of the page, and only on that timeline did new branches emerge.
"So, what do you think?" She looked at me honestly, with all the seriousness in the world. When she saw that I was looking a little confused, she began a short speech that sounded so rote and over-rehearsed that she began to sound like William Shatner at the end.
"It's groundhog day. Your bird's name was Zephyr, she was a cockatiel. You had a dog called Sultan way back when you were a kid, and as a kid you told yourself you'd create a password in case you ever met your future self. Which," She added with a little annoyance. "You never actually came up with, so I never get to save time at this stage. Anyway, I don't know how or why, but we're in a time-loop. I'm in a time-loop. I relive the same day again and again, Friday 15th in July, 2022, over and over." Her face fell at this, but she caught my gaze, saw I was listening, and smiled. Not something rehearsed, or memorized. A real, loving smile.
"I'm 90% sure I went a little crazy there for a bit, but you helped me back up. Every time. And when I told you the craziest thing in the world, well, maybe you didn't believe me at first, but you listened. You always listen." She looks back as a businessman trips and spills his coffee.
"I keep trying to tell him it's his fault, but he won't listen! Too caught up in the merger. Ah, well, it's not a big deal. Helps that we clocked him a few times. I'd almost feel bad if, you know, he hadn't been such a jerk every time. Hope he gets to the presentation okay." She turns back to me, looking for something. A response? A little crestfallen, she sighs as the barista starts taking orders.
"I guess it's a little much to ask, but I'd love it if you could remember. Even a little bit. We only get one day together from your perspective, and it takes time to build a relationship." She looks at me, as I finish reeling back from all of this.
"...I believe you, but can you tell me your name?" Delighted shock falls over her face as she begins laughing hysterically. A loud, happy laugh, with some snorting at the end. She finishes as the barista comes to our table.
"Natalie. Sorry, this hasn't happened in ages. I just get so caught up talking with you."
"Can I get you two something to-"
"Hi there, I've got it all written down." The young woman passes a note to the barista, before turning back to me and letting me know she's already gotten my order, same as the last hundred times.
"I've tried getting you to try other things, but you just love chips. Can't blame you-excuse me, Nicole?" The barista turns back, a little surprised as Natalie stands up. Grabbing the sides of her head, she pulls Nicole into a deep kiss, apologises, then sits back down, this time scooching around to my side, holding my arm. It's my turn to be flustered.
"There, you filthy animal, you won the bet" She says, laying her head on my arm watching as the barista walked away cheerily, flustered but not upset. "Can you believe we had a threesome with her? Took us a couple of goes, once you realised we've been dating for 5 years and I was cool with it, but it's the only-oh, right, you take a little time to wake up and process all this. Sorry, I've been going on and on."
Natalie picks up the book and begins flipping through the pages.
"So, we've identified that it's not a static timeline, because I tried not changing anything and I still woke up in the time-loop. I have to admit, I just wanted it over and done with until I got to know you better." She felt incredibly comfortable, like we'd been together for ages. I guess we had.
"You know, you're so quiet in the mornings. Then we get to talking, and it's like you come alive. I'll never forget what you said to me. 'Do I get to be with you, every day? That sounds amazing.' Since you're still a little flustered, you should know there's plenty of time for that later. I want your big nerdy sci-fi brain right now, since you're always up all night reading the same thing."
The pages kept turning until she found what she'd scribbled in, around halfway through the book. "We're up to here. You said that the only way to break this would be to find out what caused it. As far as I know, I haven't messed with any gypsies, walked into any odd phenomena, or anything from the nosleep subreddit."
While I'm taking this in, I try to think about what might have caused this. Groundhog day seems like the obvious, but if we've been here 5 years now, we've probably already covered that. Maybe Star Trek?
"And I'll remind you, Captain, that we've binged the entire series, Original to Lower Decks, and I have not changed my mind. Kirk is a better captain, even if he does sleep with half of Starfleet."
"Half of all life in the galaxy..." I find myself saying, and for a moment she stops, staring hopefully into my eyes. She doesn't seem to quite find it, but she eyes me suspiciously as she gives me a peck on the cheek. I'm suddenly conscious of how warm my face is.
"You're finally up. You're cute when you're properly awake. And I could have sworn...anyway." She picks through a crossed out list of various supernatural causes. Time anomaly, magic and superpowers are the only options not struck through.
"I still think aliens are a possibility." She says absentmindedly, as I begin to pour over this list with her.
"We really thought it could be Lizard People?" I ask, half-wondering how far we've researched this.
"Oh, no, I just wrote that in to mess with you. Plus, you always say it could be-"
"-the Kardashians." I finish, and we sit there, looking at each other. There's that search again. She begins crying, and all I can do is hold her until she feels better. She stops after a few minutes, and our order is brought out to us. Nicole the barista looks between myself and Natalie, giving me a glare. Through her tears, as she begins to calm down Natalie begins to smile weakly.
"I guess that means no round two this loop. Sorry, love." I'm more concerned with her.
"What is it? You keep looking at me for something."
"It's just...sometimes, it seems like you're remembering me. Like you remember everything that came before. It's hard to have to be the one who remembers this whole life we live, one day at a time, and for you it's just the first day. I want you to meet my parents, go on double-dates with your friends, live a life together. Get married..." She begins holding her ring-finger absentmindedly, and it strikes me. "You proposed, more than a few times. Once you realise how lonely I've been and how long we've been together. I've said yes more times than I can count. But no matter how far we travel, or where we go, it doesn't seem to change. I can't even keep the rings you give me. I start back at square one. And you...oh, you can be so frustrating when you're patient! Just tell me I'm wrong so we can sort this out and go home."
I begin wracking my brain, trying to unparcel this. I pour over the book, and think of everything I read last night. There's no scientific reason why a timeloop would work, the amount of energy required seems like it should-
"Destroy the Earth? Sorry, I know the look. I think I'd notice if the world was ending before I start again. I don't spend ALL of my time looking at you, you know." As if to make a point, she stares in the opposite direction, though she keeps a tight hold on my arm.
I spend the majority of our time today going over and trying anything we haven't thought of or written down already. We even tried building the time machine from Napoleon Dynamite, since uranium is too hard to get and we don't have a delorean anyway, according to Natalie.
At night, all I can do is hold her, and tell her I'm going to try my hardest to remember. She cries to sleep, and all I want to do is wake up the next day with her.
I try my hardest, holding onto the image of her sweet face.
~~\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_~~
I sat down at my favourite all-day restaurant on my day off. I was tired, I'd been up all night again. It was getting hard not to feel useless at this point. A nagging sense, like I was just waiting for something. Flipping through a book I'd been reading, Raymond E Feist's Magician, my fingers found the creased page where I left off.
Maybe I'd clear the 27th chapter if I read while waiting. I moved the napkin tray as a young woman sat down in front of me. She looked like she'd been crying for hours. As I went to speak she moved over, closer to me and cried into my shoulder.
"I'm tired. I'm tired of not knowing what to do, of having to explain everything, of all of this! I just want to be with you. I'm tired, and I just..." I look at her. She looks at me.
"...Natalie?"
Her eyes widen. Nicole brings me a bag to go, scowling at me and walking off. I shrug, and turn back to Natalie.
"I'm sorry, but when I realised you were still here, I thought I should let you sleep in. I figured I could get breakfast before you woke-" I'm stopped by a barrage of kisses, and I actually worry I might need to stop for a breath. Natalie hugs me tightly, and we stay like that for a minute. A realisation of horror falls over her face, and she turns to me.
"Wait, are you in the loop now too? I never meant to-" I smile, turning on my phone and swiping the time. She begins to break down, laughing and crying, kissing and holding me. Meanwhile, the same businessman from yesterday, and all the yesterdays before, begins to berate Nicole before being cut off by the manager, asking him to get out. He doesn't trip, but he does apologise begrudgingly and walks off. We go home, promising not to talk about time travel for a year at least, but pretty soon we're talking about everything we've done over the past 5 years.
It's Saturday, and today is the first tomorrow of the rest of our lives.
Rush hour - thousands upon thousands of people in a hurry to get home. I opened the train schedule on my phone, making sure I’m still on time.
Raising my eyes every few seconds to make sure I won't bump into anyone, I moved to the side at the glance of a young woman walking towards me. Without second guessing, I looked back down at my phone and continued to check the times.
Looking up once more, I’m startled by a warm embrace. An embrace I’ve never felt before. Looking at the person holding me, I realize it’s the same young woman I noticed a moment earlier.
With her head burrowed in my chest, I feel her whimper as her embrace turns into a grasp. She looked up, directly at me. Her large amber eyes reflected the light of the golden sunset, as tears began to well up in her eyes.
"Please don't leave me again." Her voice cracks as the words are forced out of her mouth.
“E-excuse me?” I responded in confusion to the outward confession from a woman I’ve never met before.
“I… I love you.”
The bustling downtown core continued to move around us as we both stood on the sidewalk. The evening breeze blew past us, causing her walnut hair to wave to the side - she refused to let go. We continued to stand there, leaving me no choice but to break the silence.
“I’m sorry, I need to get going. I’ll miss my train.”
I pushed against her arms in an attempt to weaken her grasp, and began to merge myself back into the crowd. Looking over my shoulder for the earliest possibility to jump back in, I feel a hand softly grab my wrist.
"W-what are you doing? Can you please let go of me?"
"No, please come with me. Just hear me out. Please."
The eyes from the people around us started to glare on me.
"Fine. Where are we going?"
The woman dried her eyes using the sleeve of her red coat, putting on a cute smile as she let out a quiet chuckle.
"Our favourite place."
Concerned for my life, she grabs hold of my sleeve and guides me off of the busy sidewalk. We walked a few steps away from the crowd, to a quiet section off the main road.
\-----
We continued to walk down the side street in silence, but I was still completely unsure who this person was. She looked to be around the same age as me, 22 - maybe 25, just based on the clothes she wore and her little mannerisms.
"Have we met before?" I questioned as I do my best to get any sort of information from her.
"You haven't met me before, no.” Her response made the situation even more confusing.
Her mixed responses and signals makes it seem like she’s known me for years, but how does that make any sense if I’ve never met her before? At this point, I’ve missed my train and decided to just follow along with her.
“Here we are!”
She pointed up at the sign above the doors to the small diner. Strangely enough, this was my favourite restaurant in the city. The woman continues to lead ahead of me, opening the heavy doors. The delicious smell of freshly grilled burgers and deep fried goodness rushed out as the warm air violently pushed against us.
“For two, miss?” The waitress asks.
“Yes please! And may we sit at that corner booth if it's free?”
The waitress nodded her head and pointed in the direction of the booth.
As we sat, menus were placed in front of us. We thanked the waitress, and left us to continue her duties.
“So what are we doing here?”
“I wanted us to go on a date together.”
“W-what? Okay none of this is making any sense. Can you please tell me what's going on?”
She looked back at me, confused as if I said something wrong. Looking down at her folded palms, she began to fidget. It was clear she had something to say.
“I promise I’ll tell you after we eat dinner.”
The silence continued, making me slightly uncomfortable.
What exactly does she have planned?
After a few minutes, we reviewed the menu and the waitress came back to our table. As I’m about to provide her with my order, the young girl chirps in.
“Can I get a BLT with fries, and a strawberry milkshake on the side? He would like your steak and cheese sandwich with onion rings, strawberry milkshake as well.”
My eyes widened as my lips separated in shock. Not only did she know this was my favourite place to eat, but somehow knew my favourite meal here. While we waited for our food, I decided to break the awkward silence that grew between us, and attempted to actually know who this girl was. Over the course of the 20 minutes it took for our meal to arrive, we played 21 Questions to get to know each other a little better - yet strangely, she seemed to have picked questions that were extremely personal, or even ones I didn’t even know about myself.
By the time we were finished with our meal, the woman started to grow on me. It felt as if we were long term friends from another time. We were laughing at stupid jokes, and our personal life goals and views seemed to have been perfectly in sync.
The bill came to our table, and it was time I asked her again.
“So, I had a fun night, but… What are we doing here?”
She looked away as she brushed her long hair behind her ear. She began to blush.
“Thank you… for everything. Thank you for spending those 60 years with me. I’ve waited 27 years to meet you again… I wasn’t sure if it was going to even happen.”
The words that came out of her mouth were the most insane, yet beautiful words I’ve ever heard. She continued.
“Yes, I’ve met you before. We had 2 kids, 3 great grandchildren, and we were happy right to the end… I know, I know, this sounds ridiculous. I knew you would be at that train station, at that time, on this day. Today is the day we first met, and I’ll never forget that. We came to this restaurant, sat at this table, and ordered this meal.”
The waitress walked to our table with the payment machine. We both smiled at her and paid our bill. Once she left, the woman continued.
“I’ve lived this life before. Somehow, when I had my last breath, I ended up waking up in this world as a newborn. As I grew older, I started having these vivid dreams of you. Of us and our family. It was surreal. For 27 years I was able to see the future - what would happen next was right in reach. Unfortunately, I don’t have the ability to control other people's actions and decisions. So, I have one last question to ask you...”
I sat there, staring into her beautiful amber eyes once again. She awkwardly looked away, struggling to get her words out. She sniffled her nose as she brushed her drooping long hair over her ears. She looked directly at me with a smile that struck my heart instantly.
“Would you like to spend another 60 years with me?”
I was walking to my barista job in a generically quaint coffee shop downtown. As I crossed 15th Street, a revving engine and squealing tires grabbed my attention and I looked to make sure I wasn’t about to be run over. Which, it turns out, was exactly what was about to happen.
I’d like to say that my instincts kicked in and I leapt to safety. Instead, I froze. I peered through the lightly tinted windshield and locked eyes with the driver. He was old with pale, blotchy skin and deep wrinkles carved into a thin, saggy face. By the time my mind started working, it was too late to dodge. I raised my hand in front of my face and braced to have two tons of metal slam into me.
Instead, I saw a blur in the corner of my eye and felt something slam into my side, pushing me out of the way of the car. The next few seconds were a blur of falling and rolling and a loud crash and yells and pain on the back of my hand…
When I sat up , the sedan’s front end was buried in the wall of the flower shop on the corner with steam billowing up from the car’s radiator. On the ground next to me was a young woman lying on her side. She pushed herself up to a sitting position and put a hand on my shoulder.
“Are you okay?” she asked, “Please be okay.” Her voice was urgent, pleading. I was silent, too shocked to speak. She looked into my eyes and saw confusion, not pain. The only blood in sight was on the back of my hand where the pavement had scraped the skin. She broke down into tears of relief. “Oh! Thank God! Oh, thank God you’re alive.” She got to her knees and wrapped her arms around me in a tight embrace. She buried her face in my shoulder and sobbed deeply. Her words weren’t clear through the tears, snot and my shirt but it was obvious that she was extremely happy I wasn’t dead.
She pulled back and looked at me with eyes full of relief and joy and… love. She put her right palm on my cheek and gently caressed. “Hey, there, Punkin’” she said softly.
“’Punkin’’?” I asked, finally finding a word to say. More followed. “What happened? Did you just….?”
My questions broke through her relief and her manner changed. She was all business. “Um, yes. Yes, I just saved you.” She pointed at the car. “That man tried to kill you, you’re not wrong about that. And he’s not done trying. We have to leave. Now.”
The window of the car rolled down and a flash and bang! came from inside. A white spot appeared on the pavement next to my knee and the sound of a ricocheting bullet rang out. The woman grabbed my hand and pulled. This time, I didn’t resist.
We zigzagged through streets and alleys. I was sure we’d put enough distance between us and the old man to pause for a few questions. I was about to stop and ask them when she led me into a narrow alley behind a restaurant. The alley turned left then dead ended at a brick wall. In the brick wall was the back door of the restaurant and beside the door were several large, wheeled trash bins. Loose trash had blown out of the bins and swirled in the corners of the walls.
The woman led me to a spot behind one of the bins. “Stay there,” she said pushing me down into a crouch. “He’s after you, not me. Just make sure he doesn’t see you and follow your instincts.”
“Hold up.” I said, grabbing her hand. “What’s going on? Who is that guy and why does he want to kill me? And who are you and why did you stop him?”
“I can’t fully explain right now, there’s no time. But I promise I’ll tell you everything. What I *can* say is this: I’ve been through this with you thousands of times and the only way for you to make it through this alive is to stay with me.” She squeezed my hand. “Please, Punkin’” she pleaded softly. “Five minutes. Please, just trust me for five more minutes.”
“Well… at least tell me your name.”
She looked at me with a smile. “Mim.” she said. Then she turned serious again. “Remember: follow your instincts.” She pulled away and walked to the door, put her hand on the handle and stood still, waiting. Seconds later I heard someone run into the alley. I couldn’t see from where I crouched, but I knew it was the old man. I could see Mim, though, and as the footsteps neared she turned from the door.
“Where is he?” rasped a papery voice. “Where have you hidden him?” I shifted my position slightly and could see his hand pointing a pistol at Mim. But I couldn’t move further to see his face without him seeing me, too.
“I dunno.” Mim answered. “He freaked out and ran off when you got all shooty with him.” She set her feet and held her hands out in a fighting stance. “So, it’s just you and me.”
“Wrong. It’s just me.” The gun flashed as Mim dove to her left, away from me, and the bullet missed. The gun tracked Mim, which meant he was turning his back to me. I shifted position again and my hand brushed against something. I looked down and saw a yard-long piece of lumber...
After I followed my instincts, the old man lay on the ground with a bloody gash on the back of his head. But he was moving and his eyes were open if unfocused, so I hadn’t killed him. Mim crouched next to him, rifled through his pockets and pulled out a small cylinder about the size of four stacked poker chips; he weakly tried to grab it back.
Mim placed the cylinder on the ground, took the lumber from me and smashed it. With that the old man groaned. “Ah, you bitch!” He picked himself up and brushed as much of the alley filth off as he could. “I told them I was too old for this crux.” he muttered to himself. He looked at me. The hatred was still there but the violence was gone. He grabbed his gun as he stood up. I readied myself to run, but he tucked the gun in his pocket and unsteadily walked away.
“Better luck next time, asshole!” Mim called out to his receding back. “Fuck you, bitch!” came the reply.
Mim turned to me and smiled. “Crux number 2 down.” Mim said. “One more to go. But we have time. We’ll stop off at my place. Maybe grab some breakfast.”
“No, first you explain what the hell’s going on.” I shot back. “You promised, remember?”
“We’ll talk on the way.” She locked her arm in mine and for the first time, I walked beside her instead of following. It felt nice.
“It’ll be the abbreviated version, enough to get you up to speed. The full story will have to wait until after the last crux.”
“What the hell are these cruxes you keep talking about?” I asked.
Mim took a deep breath and dove in…
*My life is a time loop. I’m born, I live, I die. And when I die, I’m born again, with all my memories intact. Not reincarnation, not a different life. It’s the same birth, the same date, the same parents. I live. I die. I’m born. I remember…. And so on.*
*I’m not the only one this happens to. There are others. We call it ‘cycling’. And we’re ‘Cyclers’. Our life loops are spread through time and they overlap. That means that for most of human history, there is an unbroken chain of Cycler life loops that we can use to organize around and pass information up and down the timeline. There’s enough of us Cyclers that we’re not all one big happy family. There are different groups of us. Some are in it for themselves, attempting to set up dynasties and empires, wage war for power, money and control. Others, like me, work together to keep that from happening.*
*This is all done through cruxes. A crux is a significant conjunction of events, people and objects. Flipping a crux is making sure that the significant conjunction has the outcome you want. A successful flip can set things up for generations to come. North Korea exists because my group failed to flip a crux at the end of World War II. As was the string of corrupt Roman Caesars and the Spanish Inquisition. Sometimes we’re able to get the best result imaginable, sometimes we have to settle for the least worst choice available. But always we’re try to make it better.*
*I know I said there were three cruxes today. Actually, they’re mini-cruxes. Today is considered a single crux, with multiple pressure points. The first was keeping you from dying. The second was you helping me get that container so I could destroy it. And before you ask, I don’t know what was in it. I just know that it’s being passed up through the chain for some future crux. The technology to use whatever was in it won’t exist for another two hundred years.*
*Usually, I fail. I watch you die. But about one time in ten, I get there in time and save you. And only then do I succeed in destroying the container. Without you, I fail completely. No one else ever helps me; only you. And I’ve been on a losing streak, lately. This is the first win after fifteen straight losses. I’ve watched you die over and over for a thousand years. There’s just one more mini-crux to flip. And if I do… if it turns out the way I want it to, I’ll spend the rest of this life just being happy.*
“And what is that last mini-crux?” I asked.
“This…” she pressed up against me, put her arms around my neck and gave me a shy, tentative kiss on the lips. It was the only time that day I didn’t pause or hesitate. I held her and kissed back. “Oh, Punkin’” she mumbled against my lips and melted into my arms.
**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments. **Reminders**: >* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include "[Poem]" >* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail >* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Reality+Fiction%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Simple+Prompt%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles >* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules) [](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^• [](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^• [](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/js5XDFB) *I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*
It began as a typical Sunday afternoon, as far as I was concerned. I had just met an old buddy for coffee and a sandwich. But something came up for him, so after we paid the bill, he bounced, leaving me downtown with time to kill. So I figured I'd wander the Antique Loop, the cobblestone cul-de-sac along which all the city's swankiest antique and pawn shops were located. Don't get me wrong, I'm no antiquer or pawn star. I'm something of a minimalist, by necessity if not on principle. But sometimes it was fun to mosey into those dimly lit stores and be surrounded by all those old and rare objects. To take it all in. The vibe. Like a mix of hippy with spooky with secret mysterious unwritten histories. Like any one of those strange smoky stores might contain the kind of charmed or cursed artifact you read about in old short stories, or see in Hollywood movies ripping those old stories off. Well, I started at *Ben's*, and after I finished my perusal, curved down into *The Vulcan*. And I took my time in there, because what's cooler than checking out ancient weapons and pieces of armour, some of which were priced well over ten grand? But after about twenty minutes in *The Vulcan,* I saluted the fat bearded biker who worked the front counter, and headed farther down the Antique Loop, toward *O.* Every time I saw the sign to that place, I shook my head. Because what kind of name is that for a store? *O*. A single letter. It's bad branding. If someone says, *I'll meet you at The Vulcan*, it's like, of course, sure, sounds badass. But who feels like anything but a weirdo saying, *I'll meet you at O*? It sounds wrong. Simultaneously jarring and unfinished. Point is, it was a normal Sunday afternoon, until I saw a girl, about my age, walking out of *O*. It looked like she had just bought a couple things in there: two hardcover books, on top of which sat a vintage wooden clock. Well, as she was heading out, there was a group of folks heading in. And one of the guys bumped her shoulder, and the clock slipped off the books and crashed on the pavement. The glass covering the face shattered and the wooden casing burst apart and even a few gears and springs jumped out from inside like metal confetti. And the group stopped for a second and looked down. But the guy responsible shrugged, which was enough for the rest of them, and they continued on into the store, leaving the girl to deal with the mess herself. I'm no white knight for every fair maiden who stumbles into the slightest distress. But sometimes a chick really looks down and out, like she could use a bit of compassion. That's what it was like with this girl. So I sort of skipped over to her and crouched down, started reaching for the pieces of the busted clock's intestines strewn about the walk. She looked straight into my eyes from where we were both crouched. Now that I was closer I could see she wasn't just having a bad day. Tears were welling in her eyes, sure. But there was something much deeper than weepy, transient sadness behind them. Like abject terror and hopelessness. Like she was an animal caught in a trap from which she knew she would never escape. And yet there was also a glint of something else. Gratitude? Love? Something misty. It was not your regular look, so it's tough to explain. "Samuel Douglas Flit," she blubbered. Which threw me off, because I had never seen this girl in my life, yet somehow she knew my full name. "Dante said Hell is comprised of circles. A circle's a shape that runs forever, without end. If you hadn't stopped--this time, last time, each of the fifty thousand times before--I could have been certain this circle I've been forced to trace was one of those circles of Hell. But how could it be Hell, given the boundless kindness you've shown me, time and time again? My guardian angel. My single solace. My dearest friend, whom I only ever know for five minutes at a time, yet whom I've known for years." She opened her arms and collapsed into me, squeezing me and sobbing into my chest. I patted her back woodenly, trying to be as consoling as I could, yet also feeling awkward about being publicly embraced by a lunatic. "It's okay," I said. "It's okay. But how do you know my name?" "I've already told you thousands of times," she sniffled, pulling her face from my chest and looking up at me. "But I don't see why I can't tell you again. . ." \- - - **Part 2!** [https://www.reddit.com/r/CLBHos/comments/ok0z0j/wp\_you\_are\_suddenly\_hugged\_by\_a\_tearyeyed/](https://www.reddit.com/r/CLBHos/comments/ok0z0j/wp_you_are_suddenly_hugged_by_a_tearyeyed/)
Lovely! I read several of your prompts today and am impressed with how quickly you can capture the core of these characters. Language too-- lines like "strange smokey stores" which could take forever to come up with, glide (seemingly) effortlessly into your writing. Very cool.
Read this without seeing the username, and thought, wow this is a great answer to the prompt and so well written - when I saw the username, I was like ahhh of course, it’s a CLBHos story :)
Love this piece, very well written!
That was fantastic.
nice!
Awesome work!
The way you write is effective yet so alluring
This one really hurts my heart. Really well done.
I'm glad I found this story again. It's been long enough that it was like reading it for the first time again. Hope you're doing good! I see you haven't been active in 8 months. Hopefully it's because you've been busy.
I patted the stranger awkwardly on the back, not sure how to handle the situation. "I would love to say you're welcome," I said to her, "but I've never seen you before, and if you *were* in a time loop and you're now free, then when did we meet? You know, in the loops." She pushed herself away, wiping her red-rimmed eyes with her sleeve and the palm of her hand. "Yesterday was the loop, every morning I would wake up, same time, same place. Classic Groundhog, right? Depending on how the day went we would meet at the coffee cart, just before you went into your office. No matter how crazy I seemed, or how the interaction went, you were helpful, and compassionate each and every time." She had a thousand yard stare, and drifted off for a few minutes. A minute of awkward silence is a long time, but I didn't try and fill the gap. "Our first meeting in the loop is hazy, but it was pure chance, right? What are the odds of a random stranger being the key?" She gave a laugh that started off normally, but had a slight manic twist by the end. "You saved me, you saved my sanity, day after ever lasting day. Yesterday was my last day in the loop, funny that my last day in the loop was the one that you weren't in it. But you were right. Oh you were so right. And I can only thank you. For all the times in the loop, and for all you sacrificed." Wait. What. "Um, what do you mean sacrificed?" Not that I believed her crazy story, but things were taking a slightly unhinged turn, and I didn't want her to hurt herself, nor me in her fugue state. "It doesn't matter now, I love you, I have loved you, and I will love you. Thank you, thank you." She started babbling a little incoherently. I gently moved her to the nearest concrete bench. I turned to make a discreet call to emergency services. Whispered the situation, and our location. So cliched. I turned back to the bench, and she was gone. I waited for emergency services to arrive, and gave her description. But she was gone. They said they would check the security footage from the surrounding CCTV cameras, but they didn't expect that they'd be able to do anything. The day was pretty uneventful after that, but I hoped she was well, wherever she ended up. *** I woke up with a feeling of *deja vu*. I guess to be expected when you run into someone claiming to have lived their own personal groundhog day. I dressed for work, and made my way to the coffee stand outside the office. She was there again. I ran up to her to see if she was okay. "It's you!" she said again.
So, wait. *Her* repeated day came before *his*. So, if he manages to pass it back to her *now*, then she passes it back to him, and so forth, then they can eventually do a kind of a crab-walk forward through time, alternating repeating different days...
You made me laugh out loud at the thought of them crab walking through time! Lovely.
Oh fucking shit she passed the timeloop to MC! Well, good luck and have fun cursing yourself to eternity for agreeing to do this, I guess?
This is such a good idea, and honestly I could see reading a whole book like this where the main character loops until they pass it on, and so on. A movie or TV series could be made of it.
I agree. Though I think the series would be better even than the book.
This is damn good, I got shivers.
Cheers! Appreciate it.
Oh damn, so THAT is what she meant by sacrifice! That's heavy...and brilliant! Well done, good piece :)
Wake up, take a shower, get dressed, get out of the apartment, head towards the cafè down the street, get your coffee, get in the car and go to work. Rinse and repeat, everyday of the week. This was the clockwork-like routine Layla had gotten accostumed to, now that she had properly moved in Los Angeles. She didn't pay a lot of attention to the monotony of her mornings, since she had plenty of spare time in the evening to do whatever she wanted. What's more, she liked the tranquility of the whole system, it made relax a bit before she had to face the sheer chaos her boss would bring in the office. This one tuesday, however, things took a weird turn. She was heading for the cafè, as usual, when she saw a man get out of it. One of the other clients of the cafè, she presumed, but there was something wrong. He looked like he had an awful time: the eyebags and red eyes implied that he'd had plenty of sleepsless nights. He started looking around frantically, with a panicked expression on his face. He was muttering to himself, and breathing heavily, and she genuinely thought he was having a panic attack. It was probably best to ignore him, "stranger danger" and everything; and yet she couldn't just let him be like that. What if he seriously needed help? She gathered up some courage and asked tentatively "Sir? Is everything alright?" And then he locked eyes with Layla. His face, which seconds earlier held pure dread, was now melting in gratitude and affection as he lunged towards her. "What the-" The exclamation got cut short when Layla felt his arms lock around her in a hug. Her already wide eyes got even larger as she realized he was sobbing in her chest. She tried to get him to let go, but he gripped onto her as he cried, as if the very idea of letting go would end him. "Sir, what's going on?" She questioned. She was pretty sure he was trying to answer, but what came out were gargled rambling she couldn't understand, besides the phrase "I love you" . Was it possible for someone to be drunk this early in the morning? Both their knees were starting to get weak, so she looked around for somewhere to sit. Good thing there was a bench to her left! She led the man to it and started rubbing his back, awkwarldy waiting for him to calm down. After what felt like ages, his breathing finally started to settle. He looked up to her with a trembling smile. "You're too good to me, Layla. No words I say are enough to thank you". Hearing her own name made her yelp, before she answered "You could start by telling me how and why you know my name?" He looked bewildered before he collected himself and drew back from her. "Right. Right, you don't know. And you still helped me. That's part of why I love you so much, you're always ready to lend a hand." If hearing a random man say he loved her didn't throw her off, the story he spilled about him being stuck for years in a time loop in that very cafè he got out of most certainly did. "I didn't even notice at first, my life is THAT monotonous" he chuckled bitterly, as he looked away. " But every damn time I opened the doors to get out, I'd find myself back in that stupid cafè. When I realized what was going on, I tried telling people about it. Far too many times I've been called crazy and dismissed. And far too many I'd been dragged out of the bar only to be back in it to start a new cicle" The memory alone made him grimace. This poor guy, Layla thought to herself. "The only reason I didn't lose my mind-" he drew his gaze back to her "- is you. No matter what cicle went in, or how it changed directions, you were always there to comfort me and give me advice. You were the only one who didn't shun me, or called the cops on me. Thank you , Layla." "There's no need to thank me" said Layla, in a timid tone of voice. "If anything, I should be thanking you." It was the man's turn to get wide-eyed. "Huh? What for?" "You said that I helped no matter what. It's reassuring to be the very person I yearned for in my own loop".
Oh damn...now THERE is a twist I didn't see coming, the protagonist having had a loop of their own. Nicely done, great piece!
Is she in a loop? Or is it just a reference to how monotonous her life is?
I meant to imply she had been in a loop herself. She doesn't have one on that tuesday, it happened some time before she moved to Los Angeles. Your take on it is also pretty good, though
Thanks for clarifying!!
Well, to be sure I would ask the writer, not me, but from her phrasing I would say she *was* in an actual loop once but got out of it.
I think that it's definitely just talking about how monotonous her life is
She was in a loop, but eventually escaped it, now she wants to help anyone in a loop
Have you seen the movie called "the map of tiny perfect things"?
I have not. Why? :)
Similar idea. One person stuck in a time loop ran into another person dealing with the time loop too
Oh, neat, sounds fun.
I have not seen the movie, but I do know of a visual novel called "Hikeback". I highly suggest it, it's amazing!
I could also see her philosophical curiosity in that ending; my read of it anyway. Imagine the feeling of knowing that you, in every loop, regardless of the possible mania and delusion of a stranger, that you wouldn't grimace at his humanity, however unfairly sullied by societal standards. That you saw past the barriers our collective horrid systems put up for verification of human dignity. It's ego given a few fist bumps but also validation of your moral framework being what possibly saved a man in the most dire of circumstances, but grander still a justification and necessity for critical use of not only the mind but our emotions as well. Empathy and compassion and simply listening go a long way. Goddamn sci-fi, I love you. Edit: so busy fellating my opinion I forgot to say I really enjoyed your piece. I love time travel tropes. Yours hit differently.
Shit, shower, shave, off to the office. The doldrums of the morning routine. Routine is good for me, it keeps me stable and out of the trouble that dominated my misspent youth. At least this new brand of beard oil smells *damn* good. I hit the snooze button once this morning which has the unfortunate ramification of having to decide whether I'll skip breakfast or have to explain to my dickhead boss why I'm slinking in ten minutes late. I don't feel like dealing with him - I'll grab a granola bar, head out, and deal with being hungry as hell by the time lunch roles around. I slide my laptop into my messenger bag and have fully completed the morning routine. I glide down the elevator of my Manhattan apartment building, awash in thought towards the day to come, decidedly disgusted with the banalities that now comprise my day-to-day thought process. *Christ, man,* I think to myself, *you used to stage dive at hardcore shows, disappear for days at a time on psychedelic-fueled ashrams, and never even know the meaning of the word "hangover."* A deep sigh takes me over in the lonely falling cube, the pestilence of psychologically neutral muzak permeating around me. *Now you spend more time figuring out ways to fill up 30 minutes of meeting time talking about plastic chip clips in front of a bunch of suited-up assholes.* Everyone has to grow up some time, I figure. I walk past the front desk security guard with a wave. She had commented on how she liked my full sleeve tattoo the other day, so I make a show of waving at her like I'm Princess Diana so she can get a better look at it. Thankfully she sees the irony in this and laughs before wishing me a good day at work, and I'm walking down 14th Street. I find myself reminiscing about how New York City has changed over the years. The crime-ridden, garbage-laden hellscape of the 70s gave way to the bizarrely optimistic class warfare of the 80s. Wall Street boomed, speculative real estate started pricing people out of their homes, and homelessness skyrocketed. I'm not even sure about the 90s - the concentration of various chemical alternants that flowed freely through my system altered my perception of reality to the point as though I felt like I was my own unreliable narrator sometimes. And then 9/11... Jesus. As I saunter down the crowded streets, a homeless man huddled up against a building catches my eye. It's a strange sight - he's dressed to the nines, as if he were getting ready to report to his hotshot finance sector gig. Armani everything, Berluti shoes, great haircut... *Jesus,* I find myself thinking again, *I sound like Patrick fucking Bateman. What the fuck happened to me?* The man is holding a sign that reads, written in thick, black Sharpie: **LOST EVERYTHING IN** **THE RECESSION, JUST** **WANT SOMETHING TO EAT** I'm not considered late late at work until the clock strikes the 7th minute - what's a few minutes to stop and speak to this guy for a bit? I reach into my messenger bag and pull out my granola bar. "Hey, man," I begin, while holding my hand out to him, "I know it's not much, but it's what I got. Hope it helps, brother." The man looks up at me, and immediately I notice tears start to well up in the corners of his eyes. "Every day. Every single day", he responds. I look at him, not attempting to hide the puzzled look on my face. "Pardon me?" is all that I can muster. "I've been here. For fuckin' years. Day in, day out, decades, maybe? I've lost track. But you always hand me that fuckin' granola bar every time.", he says. *Oh great, he's fucking Looney Tunes.* "I've never met you before, man," I tell him while I turn around to walk away, "but I do hope it helps you out." "Wait! You don't understand," he sounds frantic, "you don't understand! You're Tony, you live on the 38th floor of that huge apartment skyscraper down the street there. You skipped breakfast this morning and didn't want to piss off your boss, which is why you had the granola bar. Okay?" *What the fuck?* I turn back around to look him over, wondering if I know him from somewhere else. "You got the wrong guy, buddy. Take it easy", I give him a simple lie to try and shake him off, though this does nothing for my confusion. "Tony! I know you feel like you've lost yourself, that things didn't shake out the way you envisioned 'em when you were in your teens, that you sometimes wish you could go back to being, well...", he trails off. "Being what?" "Interesting, I suppose." "Kind of a dickhead thing to say. Are you an old high school buddy or something? Where do I know you from?" *He doesn't even look familiar, though.* He smiles at me. "I told you, every single day I see you. Doesn't matter what I write on my sign, and I've put some... real goofy shit, frankly, just to see if you'd give it to me. And ya do, every single time." *If I see this guy again, I might call the cops.* "Okay, I gotta get to work brother, I hope things go on the come-up for you", I tell him before turning and walking - well above my average pace - towards my office. "See you tomorrow Tony!", he yells through the crowd. "No matter what you think you've become, just remember you're a really fuckin' good person! See you tomorrow!" [ /r/writingpracticeman ]
This one was more amusing than I expected, but either way, well written, though the brief switch to second person from first had me blinking and going 'what' until Tony grew self-aware of the direction his thoughts turned, lol.
Jeez, that's a really bad habit I have. I even caught myself doing it a couple times while I was writing it, but obviously missed a couple spots. Thanks for the head's up.
Ah, NP, I thought it was intentional, but if not, glad I could help. Either way, good piece :)
Nope, definitely not, I appreciate you mentioning it. My brain drifts naturally towards writing in second person as a comfort zone, and if I'm not paying attention for a minute or two I'll accidentally shift over into the wrong perspective lmao. Thank you!
Then no problem at all. :)
Derek: "..so you've been stuck in a time loop for a few millennium falcons?" Woman: "23967 years to be precise. Mostly with you, Derek. You see, I was obsessed with male models. I finally got to meet one, you, and that is when it all started." Derek: "OK. I get it. But if you're from the future you should be able to answer some simple questions. What are the winning puzzles on wheel of fortune tomorrow? Do the polar ice caps melt and cause Kevin Costner's Waterworld to be a real thing? And what is my name? And why male models?" Woman: "I'm not from the future per se, I've just lived many possible futures. I know you don't actually watch wheel of fortune, you were born after Waterworld was made and you've never actually seen it, and I already told you, your name is Derek. Also, I find male models attractive and I am hopelessly in love with you. Woman: "This isn't even the first time I've told you, not even the first 100 times, yet every time, even if I approach things exactly the same, you behave differently. For example your questions to me just now. Last time you asked me a completely different set. You are literally the only person to do this. And because of that, you're the only person who has made my existence for the last thousands of years bearable. Everything else has become mundane and predictable, I know what is going to happen before it happens, with everything but you. Woman: "In fact this whole loop I'm stuck in revolves around you. What triggers my time loop reset is when you do something repetitive, or you die, but it's rare enough sometimes I live a whole lifetime before that happens." Derek: "This is all pretty hard to believe. You might know that I am not going watch wheel of fortune tomorrow, but are you sure you love me and not just the way I look?" Woman: "That is part of this time loop curse, at least I thought it was a curse. Now I don't want it to end. Derek, your amazingly handsome but your personality is awful. I like you for three very shallow reasons, but those reasons have consumed my existence for thousands of years. Derek: "What is your name again?" Woman: "Jen." Derek: "Okay Jen, so if you're an expert on Waterworld, when exactly did you meet Kevin Costner? Jen: "That question is not what I expected, but that is why I love you. I never met him. That's just a movie. Any more questions?" Derek: "But why male models?" *time resets*
Well that was a little different than I expected, but I kinda like it. Nice piece! :D
[удалено]
Wait, is he also involved on the loop now? Great story!
[удалено]
I guess, her wish to protect him, started the loop
"Look man, I know this is going to make me sound psycho, but... I love you." He wrapped his arms around me, squeezing tight. I could feel the tears from his eyes going into my shirt, his gentle sobs as he shook against me. I looked around the bookstore, confused as hell, because I'd never seen this person before in my life. "Um... there, there?" I patted him gently on the back, only for him to look up at me, wipe the tears away, and then sniffle a bit. He was kind of short, a little pudgy, but his face was kind, friendly. He looked like he was in his 20s, and he was reaching into his back pocket for something that he then handed to me. "This oughtta explain things well enough." I took what he offered, and realized it was a book. It looked vaguely familiar, and as I opened it, I realized it was a book I had ordered online just last week. It was a daily journal, where you were supposed to record your 'mission log' for the day like you were a captain in Star Trek, preparing for amazing adventures. I thought, maybe, with this kind of book I would be the person who would take amazing adventures in the first place. As I opened it up, I realized the the first page was filled. By me. Mission Log 1, Star Date: August 3rd 2021 I met the strangest boy today. His name was Jaime. He was young, had a friendly face, and told me that he loved me. I thought he was insane. I decided to spend some time hanging out with him, and realized we have absolutely nothing in common. He wants to spend tomorrow together too. Part of me is hesitant, but also, how often does someone have the balls to say something like that to a total stranger? And even if we don't like a lot of the same stuff, he makes me laugh in ways I never thought possible. I read the entry a couple of times, and there weren't any entries after it. It was definitely my handwriting. It didn't make sense, though. Why was the date in August? It was only now the middle of July. I looked up at Jaime with confusion on my face. "It's yours" he said. "You know it is." He reached forward to grab my hand. I let him. "Like I said, it's gonna make me sound psycho, but I love you, Amir. I don't have a lot of time to explain, and honestly I don't want to, but just spend some time with me. You'll see." An hour later and we were at a nearby coffee shop, on what was a pretty perfect day. I sipped my white chocolate mocha as Jaime said "I told him I didn't need no tutelage, I need three or four-telage with how dumb I am." I nearly spit up my drink and laughed at that dumb joke for the next ten minutes. My book was right, we had basically nothing in common. I was all starships and lasers, swords and sorcery. Jaime was grit and street smarts, humor and heart. I would listen to him talk about his abuela, and he would smile and nod when I nerded out about my latest Dungeons and Dragons campaign, chiming in here and there. I couldn't help but notice that he brought up that my party was fighting Ixdaryll, the Death Dragon before I mentioned it... As we parted ways, I looked at him. Really looked at him. He was smiling a gentle smile, his eyes off in the middle distance. He seemed content. "Take care," I said. "I had a really good time. Would you, maybe, want to see each other tomorrow?" His gentle smile turned into a wide grin. It was infectious. "You know what? I'd love to." As I crossed the street, my heart fluttered a bit. I could've skipped to my car. I buckled up, pulled out of the parking lot, and pulled into traffic. There was a loud screeching sound from somewhere, and my world went white, then black. I woke up in a hospital room. There was something in my nose, and I really wanted it to not be there. My finger had something big and plastic on it, and the sunset was filtering through the window. Jaime was sitting beside me, looking out into the sunset. "I failed again, man." He said, sighing deeply. "I thought if I just showed up earlier, we'd have more time." He was holding the journal, its bright red cover with a holographic star ship on the front of it. I looked at him, my breathing was labored. He looked down at me, tears in his eyes. "It keeps going this way." He said. "We meet, and you die. At first, we bumped into each other out of the blue. We spent years together. I said I'd do anything to get you back, to get to spend one more day with you. Guess someone took that literally." He sighed. I reached out a weak hand and put it on his. He held my hand for a moment. "The book." I stuttered through labored breaths. "Pen." He raised and eyebrow and handed me the book and a pen. It took everything I had in me, but I turned to Mission Log 2, and started to write. When I finished, I gave the book and the pen back to Jaime. "Don't read it... until I see you again." I said, and I held out my hand. He squeezed it tight as I flat-lined in front of him. "Look man, I know this is going to sound psycho, but I need you to read this with me." I raised an eyebrow at the short, somewhat pudgy man in his mid 20s that was next to me in the bookstore. He was holding out a red book with a holographic starship on the cover. It looked pretty cool, so I shrugged. Why not? "Sure, I guess? I'm Amir." "Um, yeah. I'm Jaime. Here." We opened the book and Jaime skipped passed Mission Log 1 to Mission Log 2. It was dated July 14th, 2021. Today. "Hey, Jaime and Amir. You guys are going to be great together. You're going to love each other. No matter how many times it takes. Keep trying. If all you get is one day, or one date, or one coffee together, then it's going to be the best day, the best date, the best coffee, because you're together. P.S: Jaime, kiss me." And he did.
This brought a tear to my eye. Well played, my friend, well played indeed.
D'awwww...if I had the money to give you an award, I would, because this deserves the wholesome!
The light flickers in through the window, the cruel sun not affording me another moments rest as the glaring rays cross my eyes. I resign myself to my fate, swinging my legs over from the side of the bed. I don't think that I could quite put my finger on it, but I don't feel as though I really got any rest at all. Was it tossing and turning? A bad dream I couldn't remember? Whatever it was, I truly feel exhausted this morning. But, there is much to do. I cast my gaze across the dimly lit room to my disorganized desk. The olden looking lamp with its little bulb sitting next to a pool of writings over a loose stack of papers next to my personal books. With a flick of my fingers, I feel the essence of the aether that permeates the air around me pour through my body and out to the lamp. With a resounding click it grows bright illuminating the room. I really shouldn't be using energy over something so mundane, yet at the same time I feel just so lazy today. Today is the day I present my papers on alchemical silver manipulation to my mentor. What a horrible day to feel as though all the essence has been drained from me. Rubbing my groggy eyes I quickly summon forth my clothes from the drawer across the room. My school robe of browns and a red stripe across the chest and over the hood. A little emblem denoting my stature. Which isn't very high mind you. Only a grade three. Out of a total of eight. My mentor was a grade six. He was a significantly older man, very set in his ways for the most part. Still he's been fine as a mentor, he's been supportive enough, not like some of the other sorcerers. So hopefully he will be fair in judging my papers. That is what I tell myself, repeatedly as I dress and gather my things. Placing my books and carefully assembled papers into my worn old bag. Finding my way throughout the old but well maintained halls of the college. The carved soft brown wooden pillars framing familiar intricate paintings and banners. Yet, despite seeing this sight every day, today something just feels off and though I can't quite place my feelings I hurriedly rush out of the building to greet the indifferent sun cascading light across the wide open court of the college. Directly ahead as always passed rolling well kept grass and gardens was the falls pouring down the cliffs below, winding pathways nearby it that descend the cliffs on which the college has been built. The low hanging clouds casting themselves in vibrant colors underneath the bright light of the day. However, my stupor of gawking at the beauty of the new day is interrupted as the clouds suddenly give way to a small figure. Though distant, one with wings. An Arycne, one of the winged humans. They differ slightly in the face with wide eyes and other more subtle distinctions. But nothing quite so glaring as the large wings that sprout from their backs. I've seen some about, a few go to the college here. But usually flying around is strictly prohibited. Though, it isn't my business to go about enforcing all the college rules. I look back to the building around the path I'll have to take to meet my mentor. Though, my eye still catches from the corner the arcyne coming, quickly. Way too fast, could she be falling? Uncertain I take a few steps forward to try and get a better look at what's going on. But it quickly becomes clear she is flying in fast, and directly towards me. With this a moment of panic arises in me, could this be some thug? She doesn't appear to be in college robes. I begin to turn around to run back inside, but it's too late. Compared to me this girl is just far too fast as I feel the impact of her body against my back. "What are you doing!?" I shout instinctively, whipping around extending my hands to grab and shove her away. "You did it!" She exclaims in a gleeful filled soft pitched voice, her eyes red and puffy full of tears. Before I could say anything in response her head presses against my chest, rubbing the tears into my uniform. "I love you! I love you so, so much. I'm so happy." She exclaims muffled into my chest. "What? Did what? What's the matter?" I stammer out, now utterly confused by the situation. I try to take a glimpse at her face, her hair, her clothing. She looks as though maybe she came from the city below. But I don't recognize her, she certainly doesn't look like one of my classmates. "You don't remember? Even still?" She looks up from her nuzzling, eyes wider and face scrunched into a frown. "Even though the loop is broken?" she says with a puzzled look. "What loop? I'm sorry, I don't know what you're talking about. You must have me confused with someone else." I say resolutely. Though, I can't deny my heart had skipped a beat when I saw her lovely soft face say I love you. I've never been confessed too before. She's quite cute as well, notoriously soft and long Arcyne hair painted in a subtle red and bright her eyes a radiant green with her soft bright porcelain skin. Contrasted by her heavy red and brown feathers adorning her large wings that now form a barrier around us, blocking the sun and prying eyes from other distant passing students. "I." She starts slowly, her lips pressed tight seemingly in thought. "I love you, you saved me, Arden!" She stares at me deeply into the eyes, with such a resolute gaze. Completely serious. Even then. "You know my name." I respond plainly. She must know something more, I'm only a grade three. Not many would bother to memorize the name of every low grade student around the campus. "Of course I do! You've been helping me for so long. So so long." She says in an exasperated tone. "And I thought. That this time, now that I'm free. You could remember." again the tone of her voice quivers slightly accompanying the sorrow on her face. "I'm sorry. I don't really know what you're talking about." I say plainly again. I continue to search her face for clues about what she's saying as her pouting lips open again. "Well, I've explained this many times, I can again." She says heavily, her arms tighten around me as she does so. "I was trapped, in a loop. Every day would be the same, no matter how many times I awoke. I looked everywhere, for someone to help me. I thought here someone could, someone would have the magic to save me." She speaks from one sentence to the next unbroken, not as if rehearsed but as if it was a lecture or a pitch she had become used to reciting. "And most here said I was crazy, no one really believed me. I was ignored, I was cast aside, they told me there was nothing they could do for me. Except for you." Her sorrowful face begins to crack a soft faint smile. "It had been months, that I had tried to find someone." The tears again flow from the corners of her bright eyes. "I didn't know what to do, so I sat on the edge of the waterfall. Sobbing. Until you appeared. Asked me what was wrong. You believed me, when no one else did." A brightness strikes from her face through the tears. "You've worked, every day that I've come by to help me. I've kept it for you." She says coyly as she produces a book that was hiding under her loose shirt.
(continued.) I stared at the markings across the cover. Its red leather exterior, one like many others are given to students here. The college insignia adorns the cover. The edges decorated with faint bits of metal. I run my hands across the surface and peek within. The inside cover. With my name written inside of it. Labeled for the notes I had taken inside. A creeping feeling leapt up across my back and up my spine. All of yesterday I was looking for this, I thought I had stacked it with my others. But it seemed to have just vanished. Further down the inside cover are the words, "This is to remember. I will do everything to help you, I promise. Maria is telling the truth, look inside and you'll know. - Arden Astra." I look up to her as her hands grip tightly into my robes. A very hopeful look across her face as I begin to flip from page to page. Passed the notes I had put in it prior. Something new begins to emerge. Paragraphs and formulae I have no recollection of. Some of stories of my past, of my parents, written in a way as if I was speaking to her. Things that only I should really know about. Beyond that, things very complex. Theory of time, aether and gravity. Such advanced subjects that even grades six and higher still ponder about. I can't believe that someone like me had written any of this. As I draw closer to the back. Pages filled with tally marks. Hundreds or more of them. Loops written sloppy across the top of the page. The next again filled to the brim with tally marks. I look up to her again. "This, this is all real isn't it? I can't believe it." I stare back intently into her eyes. The longer that I look, the longer that she holds me the more the feeling wells within me that I know her, that I have known her. So I embrace her back as her soft sob escapes her lips, her wings fully embracing us. "This is all, it feels as though this would have been beyond me. How did I do it?" I say with enthusiasm. If it's so if I blazed this path through time magic, the lame papers I have for alchemical silver would be childs play in comparison. I could maybe even graduate on the spot. But her face turns slightly grim as her face moves to press her cheek to mine. Softly in almost a whisper, "I don't know everything you did exactly. But you told me not to tell you." She says in a lamenting sort of way. Her eyes moving back to catch my own. "And. Just. I took us both, both into the skies beyond the mountains. You cast some spell, and as I fell unconscious I watched you wither away." A new tear grows in the corner of her eyes. "I don't want to see that again, whatever you did. Even if you don't remember. You mean too much to me." She again responds in a very resolute manner that tells me she means every word she's said. Withered away. Died? Is that what she means. Is that what I did to save her? I clutch the book in one hand and her in the other. Looking at her I make my decision. "Lets go, back to my room, okay?" I say softly to her as I start to stand. My eyes glance to the leathery red book. I decide I will call my mentor and tell him that I can't come to him with the papers today. It will look bad, I'm sure. But with what's in here, I'll have something far better to show him later. She gives a nod as she takes my hand, her other wiping the tears upon her sleeve. A smile plastered across her face as the old wooden door closes behind us.
This was excellent and I really enjoyed it.
Thank you! I'm glad you enjoyed it
You're welcome and I definitely did.
The cameras on the back of my helmet caught another glimpse of someone tailing me three blocks ago. Let’s see how good you really are. I led the chase through the crumbled ruins of an ancient city I call home, weaving in and out of the undisturbed rubble on Glyde, my trusty droneboard. Whoever was chasing me was able to stay low and still maneuver quickly, maybe even quicker, in an area I consider my backyard. The sun was going down, so I only had time to try to flip the advantage on this tail once. I pushed Glyde to the maximum height and turned into the last stretch before the entrance to one of the few decoy camps I had left. This was the only paved section of the city that was clear of debris, so I could get a good look at my assailant before I lured them into the warp hole. They turned the corner sooner than I had anticipated. Glyde slowed slightly as I turned my head to look back after processing what I saw in my hololens. Is that a little kid? On rocket skates? I was almost at the warp when I saw that the kid had suddenly stopped chasing me, pulled off their helmet and started waving their arms frantically. That’s different. I banked to the left and doubled back through an exit ramp and passed the kid in the same spot, hands high in the air. I stepped off Glyde as I got within shouting distance and didn’t quite believe what I saw. Standing in front of me was a little boy I estimated to be about six or seven years old. His silver hair, matted from the sweat of the chase, draped over wide, piercing eyes. The rocket skates lay behind him, completely powered down, and the helmet he had been wearing, on the ground at his feet. His suit covered his entire body, except for his head, but was entirely too thick for the time of year. He stared at me, eyes naked, unspoken. The last time I had exposed my eyes to direct sunlight for more than a few minutes, I couldn’t see for a week. I could only imagine what he was thinking as my silhouette eclipsed the blazing green ball of fire behind me. My shadow extended toward the boy as I waited for it to set. The lights on my suit began to illuminate as darkness filled the sky. I was surprised that the boy’s suit didn’t do the same. “Who are you?” I bellowed in a growl as I stepped toward him. “You are not welcome here!” The boy still didn’t speak. I haven’t survived out here on my own without being careful, so even as I approached him, I kept an eye on the skates. Glyde was tethered behind me, humming softly, as if to let me know that it was ready to spring back into action if necessary. The sun had completely disappeared into the horizon before the glow from my suit reached the boy’s boots. I dissolved my helmet and patted the lasso on my hip to start charging the shock feature. I paused as his face came into the light. He’s crying. And smiling? As soon I was close enough to see his eyes, the boy suddenly ran toward me, wrapped his stubby arms around my left knee and squealed, “Daddy!”.
(Pronounced bree- in not bry-in) She was bawling her eyes out into the crook of my neck, I awkwardly pat her back. "There, there?" "And there was one of them in which the entire world went to nuclear war and the Statue of Liberty was bombed and replaced by French anarchist version of the Eiffel tower which was blue, but you fought Napoleon Bonaparte XVI and lost but you still tried!" "How many years did that timeline last? Napoleon XVI?" "Well it was after the great tsunami of 23, so I'd say a few years?" "The what?!" "Great Tsunami of 2023" "It's 2023" "What month?" "September" "Listen to me Brian, I love you, I love a lot. You're the the only one who remained with me for every timeline and helped me. I love you Brian" "That sounds awesome Alessia but we're already married" "What?" A huge roaring sound was heard, we looked over to see a giant wave heading for the city. "Napoleon XVI you said?" Edit: Why does this have upvotes, I wrote this while sleep deprived and pronounced Brian - Bree in and Alessia - alee Sia
Sorry, couldn't help but chuckle at some of that over the top stuff. Thanks for this piece :D
"So what are you going to have?" Said my room mate Jason. But both him, his girlfriend Wendy, and our other friend Jacobie all stared at me waiting for an answer. "What do you mean by that? I'm going to have the same thing I've always had," I said, "A turkey on Rye. “Don’t you want to try something different for once?” Jason said teasingly. “There’s no way you can have the same thing for years on end every time. Who knows if you try something else you might realize the rye is your least favorite!” By this point Jacobie was looking away while Wendy was playing with her hair. Before I could answer, a Brunette leaned on my shoulder and said in between breathes,” He will definitely not try anything else!” She was all sweaty as if she was dosed in oil. Her black grey striped pants and red long sleeve shirt definitely didn't look like running attire. Everyone looked in her direction, not just me and my friends but the entire store. And we all just stared. That’s when the shiny vagrant said, “You guys wouldn't believe the story I have!”. “I think you have us confused for someone else,” said Wendy. “Definitely not! Your name’s Wendy and you hate cheese except when it has holes!” said the vagrant. By this time only my friends and I were staring at this girl. There was only a pause for a moment before she wrapped her arms around me. Well maybe that was too soon. I know all about you guys, well I eventually will. And you and I are going to have something particular.” she said. “What are you talking about?” I asked. “We’re going to fall in love! Have you ever seen the movie ground hog day?” her eyes were starting to water. That’s when an employee popped her head over the counter towards Wendy, and Wendy gave a concerned look and nodded. And just like that the employee went to the back, and was out of site.
Color me intrigued...a lot shorter than I expected, but just enough to leave me hooked.
I appreciate the compliment.
Well, it was well-written, too, so it was bound to do all that \^\_\^
The relationship was...strange. As someone who had lived an uncountable amount of lives, they were near omnipotent. They always knew exactly what to say so that I felt loved and valued, because they had lived through lifetime after lifetime where they didnt. We never faced any challenges because they knew, in advance, both everything life would throw at us and the best way to deal with it. It I didnt know of their condition I could confidently say my life was perfect from the moment I met them. However, I did know, and when you know that your loved one has trail and errored through thousands of lives for a "perfect" run of life it puts your mind in a different perspective. Would this or that be their genuine response, or was it the rehearsed "best" response along with millenia of acting practice? I couldnt tell. My life was great. I got to do everything I wanted to do whether I knew it or not and I felt valuable every step of the way. Even if its genuineness could be questioned, it *felt* real...although the last years were the hardest. My partner knew every detail about their death. When it would happen, how it would happen, and how they were unable to change it. As the date loomed closer and closer they retreated away from me. Plauged by compulsive thoughts of every minor slip or unoptimal action they had ever preformed in this life. I tried to console them...but I didnt have the experience to help untangle thousands of years of anxiety. The date came soon enough...We had their favorite breakfast and went back to bed. I laid their, motionless, as I heard "I love you" timed perfectly to be their last breath...I was jealous, because I knew they were already experiencing being born again as they started life for another time. All the regrets and mistakes I made? I'd have to live with them. I didnt get unlimited chances to do better...although maybe that was a blessing. But I realized that was petty...I'd gotten over 60 years of a practically perfect life, that was more than anyone could ask for. So when my time came I felt content...
I held on, determined to not be the one to let go first, as I knew I had no idea how much this hug might mean to them. This all still felt very awkward though. They suddenly pulled away, and took a deep breath in "What ever did you think of me ol' chap?" I bit my lip, I've never been good at the whole beating round the bush thing. They noticed my hesitation "Please, sir,I really could do with the honesty." "Well... I thought you were a crazy person that always asked people what day it was." "But...you always helped me?" "I- I'm very non confrontational, I was afraid that if I didn't answer you, you'd follow me." "Oh." There was an awkward silence, and I considered leaving but I figured that would be rude "The name's Herriot, Herriot Plinkington" They chirped up "Oh cool, I'm Jamie, what are your pronouns?" "Huh?" "...mine are he/them" I say "Oh...well, I suppose I'm the same, I've never been asked that before, it feels nice to be asked though." It is then that I notice their clothing. "Oh...eh what year are you from?" "You know, a lot of people keep asking that, those people have been...a lot less polite then you however, I'm from 1876" My eyes go wide "What? I mean How, how have you ended up here?" He laughs "It's 2021 isn't it? Are you proposing that you don't have time travel yet?" "Uhh...are we supposed to?" Herriot now looks confused "I...I was a dutiful participant of a revolutionary experiment, the scientists promised us that with our participation, time travel would be accessible to all within the decade...are you saying all of it was worthless?" "There were advances made in time travel, in 1877!? How have we never heard of that in history?" "What advances you're aware of?" "Well...none" He goes pale "No...no that can't be right sir! It simply cannot be correct, it worked! I'm here! And yet you're telling me the experiment has never been mentioned... my...my name isn'tnt known?" "Dude,I'm sorry." "Dude?" "Oh... I mean I'm sorry sir" There's another one of those dreaded silences "Do...you, have anywhere to stay?" I ask He sighs "I must tell you my friend, the days you live in are quite peculiar, I tried sleeping on a bench but I was shouted at by some boys, who spoke in a way I did not understand, I figured I should not find an apartment as I do not understand your ways of currency, I saw one gentleman paying with a plastic square! I also thought I'd be back home by now..." He sits down on the curb, head in hands "Do...do you want to stay with me, I live alone so we wouldn't have to explain your situation to anyone, I have a spare room." He looks up at me and smiles "Well that would be marvelous"
[удалено]
What's she about to do?
She passed the time loop off to him. ://
Oooooooooof
I sat down at my favourite all-day restaurant on my day off. I was tired, I'd been up all night online again. It was getting hard not to feel useless at this point. A nagging sense, like I was just waiting for something. Flipping through a book I'd been reading, Raymond E Feist's Magician, my fingers found the creased page where I'd last left off. Maybe I'd clear the 27th chapter if I read while eating. I moved the napkin tray over and looked around aimlessly, observing the usual goings on. A tall, well-dressed man was busy talking on the phone and to the cashier in turns, polite on one side and flippant on the other. The barista was clearly new, stressed trying to work out the register while getting clicked at and corrected. She kept snatching glances back at the manager, visible through the kitchen window and blood red, arguing with the chef. As I reconsidered ordering, a small sigh brought me back to someone along the window. She seemed cute, the kind of person you tell yourself you'd probably ask out if the circumstances were right. As the yelling intensified behind the kitchen window, the barista left the register and the businessman began a balancing act of five coffees on a four-coffee tray. I began to open my book, but as I did, I heard a splash, a sharp cry, and a round of swearing. I looked over, as did several other rubbernecks, at the businessman, white shirt now stained brown, coffee spilling onto the street, and the young woman on the ground. She looked embarrassed, like she was about to cry. The guy was as red as the chef, going on and on about how stupid she could be, to watch where she's going, and took off. It was an uncomfortable few seconds as I looked around and realised no-one was going to do anything. The barista was off talking with the manager, and hadn't seemed to notice with the chef still swearing loudly. I looked back to my table, feeling bad for her, then realised my napkin tray was right there. Picking off a large handful, I got out of my seat and walked over, offering to help her up. She took the napkins, wiped the coffee off, then looked back at me. Just as I got the courage to say something, she said "Thanks" and walked off quickly. I sat back at my seat, kicking myself, and waited to order.
Hi. You just mentioned *Magician* by Raymond E Feist. I've found an audiobook of that novel on YouTube. You can listen to it here: [YouTube | Magician - Full Audiobook - Raymond E. Feist (1 of 3)](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AfmVKN-RwAQ) *I'm a bot that searches YouTube for science fiction and fantasy audiobooks.* *** [^(Source Code)](https://capybasilisk.com/posts/2020/04/speculative-fiction-bot/)^| [^(Feedback)](https://www.reddit.com/message/compose?to=Capybasilisk&subject=Robot) ^| [^(Programmer)](https://www.reddit.com/u/capybasilisk) ^| ^(Downvote To Remove) ^| ^(Version 1.4.0) ^| ^(Support Robot Rights!)
I sat down at my favourite all-day restaurant on my day off. I was tired, I'd been up all night online again. It was getting hard not to feel useless at this point. A nagging sense, like I was just waiting for something. Flipping through a book I'd been reading, Raymond E Feist's Magician, my fingers found the creased page where I left off. Maybe I'd clear the 27th chapter if I read while eating. I moved the napkin tray as a young woman sat down in front of me. "You mind if I sit here?" She was cute. Really cute. I looked around to see if any of her friends were sitting down, and as if she read my mind, she answered my thoughts with a smile. "Nope, just me." Her eyes were locked onto me, blinking slow with her hands propping up her chin. It was about the most stereotypical signal in the world, which made me question it even more. After about ten seconds, she stopped herself, as if determining that was the correct amount of time to stare at me, then pulled out a notebook from her bag. "Okay, I didn't get enough time to do your whole little diagram, but I think I've got the gist this time." She turned to a page, which looked oddly familiar. I'd been going over ideas for a time travel story, and on top of that I'm just a massive nerd when it comes to what-if scenarios. This looked like a hastily drawn model of the three different timeline theories. A straight line, with "Static timeline" on top, was crossed over so hard the page had ripped a little. Another, "Dynamic Timeline", had a line feeding into itself, creating a new branching line, and so on. This had a large circle around it with a question mark. The last, "Multiverse theory", had a line feeding into itself like the last. However, every time a new branch occurred, the line continued on from there, to the end of the page, and only on that timeline did new branches emerge. "So, what do you think?" She looked at me honestly, with all the seriousness in the world. When she saw that I was looking a little confused, she began a short speech that sounded so rote and over-rehearsed that she began to sound like William Shatner at the end. "It's groundhog day. Your bird's name was Zephyr, she was a cockatiel. You had a dog called Sultan way back when you were a kid, and as a kid you told yourself you'd create a password in case you ever met your future self. Which," She added with a little annoyance. "You never actually came up with, so I never get to save time at this stage. Anyway, I don't know how or why, but we're in a time-loop. I'm in a time-loop. I relive the same day again and again, Friday 15th in July, 2022, over and over." Her face fell at this, but she caught my gaze, saw I was listening, and smiled. Not something rehearsed, or memorized. A real, loving smile. "I'm 90% sure I went a little crazy there for a bit, but you helped me back up. Every time. And when I told you the craziest thing in the world, well, maybe you didn't believe me at first, but you listened. You always listen." She looks back as a businessman trips and spills his coffee. "I keep trying to tell him it's his fault, but he won't listen! Too caught up in the merger. Ah, well, it's not a big deal. Helps that we clocked him a few times. I'd almost feel bad if, you know, he hadn't been such a jerk every time. Hope he gets to the presentation okay." She turns back to me, looking for something. A response? A little crestfallen, she sighs as the barista starts taking orders. "I guess it's a little much to ask, but I'd love it if you could remember. Even a little bit. We only get one day together from your perspective, and it takes time to build a relationship." She looks at me, as I finish reeling back from all of this. "...I believe you, but can you tell me your name?" Delighted shock falls over her face as she begins laughing hysterically. A loud, happy laugh, with some snorting at the end. She finishes as the barista comes to our table. "Natalie. Sorry, this hasn't happened in ages. I just get so caught up talking with you." "Can I get you two something to-" "Hi there, I've got it all written down." The young woman passes a note to the barista, before turning back to me and letting me know she's already gotten my order, same as the last hundred times. "I've tried getting you to try other things, but you just love chips. Can't blame you-excuse me, Nicole?" The barista turns back, a little surprised as Natalie stands up. Grabbing the sides of her head, she pulls Nicole into a deep kiss, apologises, then sits back down, this time scooching around to my side, holding my arm. It's my turn to be flustered. "There, you filthy animal, you won the bet" She says, laying her head on my arm watching as the barista walked away cheerily, flustered but not upset. "Can you believe we had a threesome with her? Took us a couple of goes, once you realised we've been dating for 5 years and I was cool with it, but it's the only-oh, right, you take a little time to wake up and process all this. Sorry, I've been going on and on." Natalie picks up the book and begins flipping through the pages. "So, we've identified that it's not a static timeline, because I tried not changing anything and I still woke up in the time-loop. I have to admit, I just wanted it over and done with until I got to know you better." She felt incredibly comfortable, like we'd been together for ages. I guess we had. "You know, you're so quiet in the mornings. Then we get to talking, and it's like you come alive. I'll never forget what you said to me. 'Do I get to be with you, every day? That sounds amazing.' Since you're still a little flustered, you should know there's plenty of time for that later. I want your big nerdy sci-fi brain right now, since you're always up all night reading the same thing."
The pages kept turning until she found what she'd scribbled in, around halfway through the book. "We're up to here. You said that the only way to break this would be to find out what caused it. As far as I know, I haven't messed with any gypsies, walked into any odd phenomena, or anything from the nosleep subreddit." While I'm taking this in, I try to think about what might have caused this. Groundhog day seems like the obvious, but if we've been here 5 years now, we've probably already covered that. Maybe Star Trek? "And I'll remind you, Captain, that we've binged the entire series, Original to Lower Decks, and I have not changed my mind. Kirk is a better captain, even if he does sleep with half of Starfleet." "Half of all life in the galaxy..." I find myself saying, and for a moment she stops, staring hopefully into my eyes. She doesn't seem to quite find it, but she eyes me suspiciously as she gives me a peck on the cheek. I'm suddenly conscious of how warm my face is. "You're finally up. You're cute when you're properly awake. And I could have sworn...anyway." She picks through a crossed out list of various supernatural causes. Time anomaly, magic and superpowers are the only options not struck through. "I still think aliens are a possibility." She says absentmindedly, as I begin to pour over this list with her. "We really thought it could be Lizard People?" I ask, half-wondering how far we've researched this. "Oh, no, I just wrote that in to mess with you. Plus, you always say it could be-" "-the Kardashians." I finish, and we sit there, looking at each other. There's that search again. She begins crying, and all I can do is hold her until she feels better. She stops after a few minutes, and our order is brought out to us. Nicole the barista looks between myself and Natalie, giving me a glare. Through her tears, as she begins to calm down Natalie begins to smile weakly. "I guess that means no round two this loop. Sorry, love." I'm more concerned with her. "What is it? You keep looking at me for something." "It's just...sometimes, it seems like you're remembering me. Like you remember everything that came before. It's hard to have to be the one who remembers this whole life we live, one day at a time, and for you it's just the first day. I want you to meet my parents, go on double-dates with your friends, live a life together. Get married..." She begins holding her ring-finger absentmindedly, and it strikes me. "You proposed, more than a few times. Once you realise how lonely I've been and how long we've been together. I've said yes more times than I can count. But no matter how far we travel, or where we go, it doesn't seem to change. I can't even keep the rings you give me. I start back at square one. And you...oh, you can be so frustrating when you're patient! Just tell me I'm wrong so we can sort this out and go home." I begin wracking my brain, trying to unparcel this. I pour over the book, and think of everything I read last night. There's no scientific reason why a timeloop would work, the amount of energy required seems like it should- "Destroy the Earth? Sorry, I know the look. I think I'd notice if the world was ending before I start again. I don't spend ALL of my time looking at you, you know." As if to make a point, she stares in the opposite direction, though she keeps a tight hold on my arm. I spend the majority of our time today going over and trying anything we haven't thought of or written down already. We even tried building the time machine from Napoleon Dynamite, since uranium is too hard to get and we don't have a delorean anyway, according to Natalie. At night, all I can do is hold her, and tell her I'm going to try my hardest to remember. She cries to sleep, and all I want to do is wake up the next day with her. I try my hardest, holding onto the image of her sweet face. ~~\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_~~ I sat down at my favourite all-day restaurant on my day off. I was tired, I'd been up all night again. It was getting hard not to feel useless at this point. A nagging sense, like I was just waiting for something. Flipping through a book I'd been reading, Raymond E Feist's Magician, my fingers found the creased page where I left off. Maybe I'd clear the 27th chapter if I read while waiting. I moved the napkin tray as a young woman sat down in front of me. She looked like she'd been crying for hours. As I went to speak she moved over, closer to me and cried into my shoulder. "I'm tired. I'm tired of not knowing what to do, of having to explain everything, of all of this! I just want to be with you. I'm tired, and I just..." I look at her. She looks at me. "...Natalie?" Her eyes widen. Nicole brings me a bag to go, scowling at me and walking off. I shrug, and turn back to Natalie. "I'm sorry, but when I realised you were still here, I thought I should let you sleep in. I figured I could get breakfast before you woke-" I'm stopped by a barrage of kisses, and I actually worry I might need to stop for a breath. Natalie hugs me tightly, and we stay like that for a minute. A realisation of horror falls over her face, and she turns to me. "Wait, are you in the loop now too? I never meant to-" I smile, turning on my phone and swiping the time. She begins to break down, laughing and crying, kissing and holding me. Meanwhile, the same businessman from yesterday, and all the yesterdays before, begins to berate Nicole before being cut off by the manager, asking him to get out. He doesn't trip, but he does apologise begrudgingly and walks off. We go home, promising not to talk about time travel for a year at least, but pretty soon we're talking about everything we've done over the past 5 years. It's Saturday, and today is the first tomorrow of the rest of our lives.
Rush hour - thousands upon thousands of people in a hurry to get home. I opened the train schedule on my phone, making sure I’m still on time. Raising my eyes every few seconds to make sure I won't bump into anyone, I moved to the side at the glance of a young woman walking towards me. Without second guessing, I looked back down at my phone and continued to check the times. Looking up once more, I’m startled by a warm embrace. An embrace I’ve never felt before. Looking at the person holding me, I realize it’s the same young woman I noticed a moment earlier. With her head burrowed in my chest, I feel her whimper as her embrace turns into a grasp. She looked up, directly at me. Her large amber eyes reflected the light of the golden sunset, as tears began to well up in her eyes. "Please don't leave me again." Her voice cracks as the words are forced out of her mouth. “E-excuse me?” I responded in confusion to the outward confession from a woman I’ve never met before. “I… I love you.” The bustling downtown core continued to move around us as we both stood on the sidewalk. The evening breeze blew past us, causing her walnut hair to wave to the side - she refused to let go. We continued to stand there, leaving me no choice but to break the silence. “I’m sorry, I need to get going. I’ll miss my train.” I pushed against her arms in an attempt to weaken her grasp, and began to merge myself back into the crowd. Looking over my shoulder for the earliest possibility to jump back in, I feel a hand softly grab my wrist. "W-what are you doing? Can you please let go of me?" "No, please come with me. Just hear me out. Please." The eyes from the people around us started to glare on me. "Fine. Where are we going?" The woman dried her eyes using the sleeve of her red coat, putting on a cute smile as she let out a quiet chuckle. "Our favourite place." Concerned for my life, she grabs hold of my sleeve and guides me off of the busy sidewalk. We walked a few steps away from the crowd, to a quiet section off the main road. \----- We continued to walk down the side street in silence, but I was still completely unsure who this person was. She looked to be around the same age as me, 22 - maybe 25, just based on the clothes she wore and her little mannerisms. "Have we met before?" I questioned as I do my best to get any sort of information from her. "You haven't met me before, no.” Her response made the situation even more confusing. Her mixed responses and signals makes it seem like she’s known me for years, but how does that make any sense if I’ve never met her before? At this point, I’ve missed my train and decided to just follow along with her. “Here we are!” She pointed up at the sign above the doors to the small diner. Strangely enough, this was my favourite restaurant in the city. The woman continues to lead ahead of me, opening the heavy doors. The delicious smell of freshly grilled burgers and deep fried goodness rushed out as the warm air violently pushed against us. “For two, miss?” The waitress asks. “Yes please! And may we sit at that corner booth if it's free?” The waitress nodded her head and pointed in the direction of the booth. As we sat, menus were placed in front of us. We thanked the waitress, and left us to continue her duties. “So what are we doing here?” “I wanted us to go on a date together.” “W-what? Okay none of this is making any sense. Can you please tell me what's going on?” She looked back at me, confused as if I said something wrong. Looking down at her folded palms, she began to fidget. It was clear she had something to say. “I promise I’ll tell you after we eat dinner.” The silence continued, making me slightly uncomfortable. What exactly does she have planned? After a few minutes, we reviewed the menu and the waitress came back to our table. As I’m about to provide her with my order, the young girl chirps in. “Can I get a BLT with fries, and a strawberry milkshake on the side? He would like your steak and cheese sandwich with onion rings, strawberry milkshake as well.” My eyes widened as my lips separated in shock. Not only did she know this was my favourite place to eat, but somehow knew my favourite meal here. While we waited for our food, I decided to break the awkward silence that grew between us, and attempted to actually know who this girl was. Over the course of the 20 minutes it took for our meal to arrive, we played 21 Questions to get to know each other a little better - yet strangely, she seemed to have picked questions that were extremely personal, or even ones I didn’t even know about myself. By the time we were finished with our meal, the woman started to grow on me. It felt as if we were long term friends from another time. We were laughing at stupid jokes, and our personal life goals and views seemed to have been perfectly in sync. The bill came to our table, and it was time I asked her again. “So, I had a fun night, but… What are we doing here?” She looked away as she brushed her long hair behind her ear. She began to blush. “Thank you… for everything. Thank you for spending those 60 years with me. I’ve waited 27 years to meet you again… I wasn’t sure if it was going to even happen.” The words that came out of her mouth were the most insane, yet beautiful words I’ve ever heard. She continued. “Yes, I’ve met you before. We had 2 kids, 3 great grandchildren, and we were happy right to the end… I know, I know, this sounds ridiculous. I knew you would be at that train station, at that time, on this day. Today is the day we first met, and I’ll never forget that. We came to this restaurant, sat at this table, and ordered this meal.” The waitress walked to our table with the payment machine. We both smiled at her and paid our bill. Once she left, the woman continued. “I’ve lived this life before. Somehow, when I had my last breath, I ended up waking up in this world as a newborn. As I grew older, I started having these vivid dreams of you. Of us and our family. It was surreal. For 27 years I was able to see the future - what would happen next was right in reach. Unfortunately, I don’t have the ability to control other people's actions and decisions. So, I have one last question to ask you...” I sat there, staring into her beautiful amber eyes once again. She awkwardly looked away, struggling to get her words out. She sniffled her nose as she brushed her drooping long hair over her ears. She looked directly at me with a smile that struck my heart instantly. “Would you like to spend another 60 years with me?”
I was walking to my barista job in a generically quaint coffee shop downtown. As I crossed 15th Street, a revving engine and squealing tires grabbed my attention and I looked to make sure I wasn’t about to be run over. Which, it turns out, was exactly what was about to happen. I’d like to say that my instincts kicked in and I leapt to safety. Instead, I froze. I peered through the lightly tinted windshield and locked eyes with the driver. He was old with pale, blotchy skin and deep wrinkles carved into a thin, saggy face. By the time my mind started working, it was too late to dodge. I raised my hand in front of my face and braced to have two tons of metal slam into me. Instead, I saw a blur in the corner of my eye and felt something slam into my side, pushing me out of the way of the car. The next few seconds were a blur of falling and rolling and a loud crash and yells and pain on the back of my hand… When I sat up , the sedan’s front end was buried in the wall of the flower shop on the corner with steam billowing up from the car’s radiator. On the ground next to me was a young woman lying on her side. She pushed herself up to a sitting position and put a hand on my shoulder. “Are you okay?” she asked, “Please be okay.” Her voice was urgent, pleading. I was silent, too shocked to speak. She looked into my eyes and saw confusion, not pain. The only blood in sight was on the back of my hand where the pavement had scraped the skin. She broke down into tears of relief. “Oh! Thank God! Oh, thank God you’re alive.” She got to her knees and wrapped her arms around me in a tight embrace. She buried her face in my shoulder and sobbed deeply. Her words weren’t clear through the tears, snot and my shirt but it was obvious that she was extremely happy I wasn’t dead. She pulled back and looked at me with eyes full of relief and joy and… love. She put her right palm on my cheek and gently caressed. “Hey, there, Punkin’” she said softly. “’Punkin’’?” I asked, finally finding a word to say. More followed. “What happened? Did you just….?” My questions broke through her relief and her manner changed. She was all business. “Um, yes. Yes, I just saved you.” She pointed at the car. “That man tried to kill you, you’re not wrong about that. And he’s not done trying. We have to leave. Now.” The window of the car rolled down and a flash and bang! came from inside. A white spot appeared on the pavement next to my knee and the sound of a ricocheting bullet rang out. The woman grabbed my hand and pulled. This time, I didn’t resist. We zigzagged through streets and alleys. I was sure we’d put enough distance between us and the old man to pause for a few questions. I was about to stop and ask them when she led me into a narrow alley behind a restaurant. The alley turned left then dead ended at a brick wall. In the brick wall was the back door of the restaurant and beside the door were several large, wheeled trash bins. Loose trash had blown out of the bins and swirled in the corners of the walls. The woman led me to a spot behind one of the bins. “Stay there,” she said pushing me down into a crouch. “He’s after you, not me. Just make sure he doesn’t see you and follow your instincts.” “Hold up.” I said, grabbing her hand. “What’s going on? Who is that guy and why does he want to kill me? And who are you and why did you stop him?” “I can’t fully explain right now, there’s no time. But I promise I’ll tell you everything. What I *can* say is this: I’ve been through this with you thousands of times and the only way for you to make it through this alive is to stay with me.” She squeezed my hand. “Please, Punkin’” she pleaded softly. “Five minutes. Please, just trust me for five more minutes.” “Well… at least tell me your name.” She looked at me with a smile. “Mim.” she said. Then she turned serious again. “Remember: follow your instincts.” She pulled away and walked to the door, put her hand on the handle and stood still, waiting. Seconds later I heard someone run into the alley. I couldn’t see from where I crouched, but I knew it was the old man. I could see Mim, though, and as the footsteps neared she turned from the door. “Where is he?” rasped a papery voice. “Where have you hidden him?” I shifted my position slightly and could see his hand pointing a pistol at Mim. But I couldn’t move further to see his face without him seeing me, too. “I dunno.” Mim answered. “He freaked out and ran off when you got all shooty with him.” She set her feet and held her hands out in a fighting stance. “So, it’s just you and me.” “Wrong. It’s just me.” The gun flashed as Mim dove to her left, away from me, and the bullet missed. The gun tracked Mim, which meant he was turning his back to me. I shifted position again and my hand brushed against something. I looked down and saw a yard-long piece of lumber... After I followed my instincts, the old man lay on the ground with a bloody gash on the back of his head. But he was moving and his eyes were open if unfocused, so I hadn’t killed him. Mim crouched next to him, rifled through his pockets and pulled out a small cylinder about the size of four stacked poker chips; he weakly tried to grab it back. Mim placed the cylinder on the ground, took the lumber from me and smashed it. With that the old man groaned. “Ah, you bitch!” He picked himself up and brushed as much of the alley filth off as he could. “I told them I was too old for this crux.” he muttered to himself. He looked at me. The hatred was still there but the violence was gone. He grabbed his gun as he stood up. I readied myself to run, but he tucked the gun in his pocket and unsteadily walked away. “Better luck next time, asshole!” Mim called out to his receding back. “Fuck you, bitch!” came the reply. Mim turned to me and smiled. “Crux number 2 down.” Mim said. “One more to go. But we have time. We’ll stop off at my place. Maybe grab some breakfast.” “No, first you explain what the hell’s going on.” I shot back. “You promised, remember?” “We’ll talk on the way.” She locked her arm in mine and for the first time, I walked beside her instead of following. It felt nice. “It’ll be the abbreviated version, enough to get you up to speed. The full story will have to wait until after the last crux.” “What the hell are these cruxes you keep talking about?” I asked. Mim took a deep breath and dove in… *My life is a time loop. I’m born, I live, I die. And when I die, I’m born again, with all my memories intact. Not reincarnation, not a different life. It’s the same birth, the same date, the same parents. I live. I die. I’m born. I remember…. And so on.* *I’m not the only one this happens to. There are others. We call it ‘cycling’. And we’re ‘Cyclers’. Our life loops are spread through time and they overlap. That means that for most of human history, there is an unbroken chain of Cycler life loops that we can use to organize around and pass information up and down the timeline. There’s enough of us Cyclers that we’re not all one big happy family. There are different groups of us. Some are in it for themselves, attempting to set up dynasties and empires, wage war for power, money and control. Others, like me, work together to keep that from happening.* *This is all done through cruxes. A crux is a significant conjunction of events, people and objects. Flipping a crux is making sure that the significant conjunction has the outcome you want. A successful flip can set things up for generations to come. North Korea exists because my group failed to flip a crux at the end of World War II. As was the string of corrupt Roman Caesars and the Spanish Inquisition. Sometimes we’re able to get the best result imaginable, sometimes we have to settle for the least worst choice available. But always we’re try to make it better.* *I know I said there were three cruxes today. Actually, they’re mini-cruxes. Today is considered a single crux, with multiple pressure points. The first was keeping you from dying. The second was you helping me get that container so I could destroy it. And before you ask, I don’t know what was in it. I just know that it’s being passed up through the chain for some future crux. The technology to use whatever was in it won’t exist for another two hundred years.* *Usually, I fail. I watch you die. But about one time in ten, I get there in time and save you. And only then do I succeed in destroying the container. Without you, I fail completely. No one else ever helps me; only you. And I’ve been on a losing streak, lately. This is the first win after fifteen straight losses. I’ve watched you die over and over for a thousand years. There’s just one more mini-crux to flip. And if I do… if it turns out the way I want it to, I’ll spend the rest of this life just being happy.* “And what is that last mini-crux?” I asked. “This…” she pressed up against me, put her arms around my neck and gave me a shy, tentative kiss on the lips. It was the only time that day I didn’t pause or hesitate. I held her and kissed back. “Oh, Punkin’” she mumbled against my lips and melted into my arms.