“What is your #intent here?” The faculty head asked, as they inspected the partly assembled devices on my desk.
“Time travel, obviously.”
“Right, and what’s going to make your devices successful where so many others have failed?”
“I know what I’m doing.”
“you haven’t seen the Back to the Future Trilogy?” Thomas made a face.
“I was more a Dr Who fan when it came to time travel.” I told him, deciding not to tell him I could write his name in Gallifreyan.
“I’ll have to #renounce you as my boyfriend, this simply won’t do.”
I try not to #stray too far in case something happens, but the TimeRing is unpredictable and I end up over 100 years into my future. There I find myself, not an Anthony.
“Beware the Wardens of When!” He tells me, deftly activating my device and pushing me into our past.
In my dream they #flock to me like rats escaping a sinking ship. A million Anthonys but none of them mine. They pull me under and I drown in the scent of his cologne. Disoriented, I can’t find my way out.
Hands pull at every inch of me.
I wake up screaming but not alone.
I’d been hoovering along to #Queen, doing my best Freddie Mercury impression when the song suddenly changed to AC/DC. I turned and found Anthony holding out a box.
It’s a roomba. With a name label reading TIM.
“Most people get puppies.” I frown at him.
The sound of glass bottles clattering together stirred a sleeping rat as I materialised, knocking a shelf. Dust motes dance in my blurred vision as I waited for the nausea to pass so I could figure out where I was. A #Cellar from the looks of it. But When?
Every mark on his body was #familiar to me. Noted, analysed stored in my brain. When I saw the scar on his back and how quickly he tried to hide it, I knew it wasn’t my Thomas. He was a future Thomas and the curiosity gnawed at me as to how and why. But I knew he would not say.