Why You Don’t Want a Time Machine

Inside the time machineAt 11:20 AM on March 2nd, the time machine Debbie and I had stepped into rumbled and rattled. A force pushed my body into the cushions of my seat, making it even less comfortable than before. The seat tilted back for some minutes, but then tilted forward again. Attendants came and gave us food, to my great relief. A screen was fixed directly in front of my face, demanding attention. I watched a mediocre sci fi movie, its sequel, and two very funny episodes of Gilligan’s Island. Thirteen hours later, an attendant opened the time machine’s door. The time was 6:30 AM, March 2nd,, five hours before the machine started. We had added a total of eighteen hours to the day.

In addition, our location changed from Brisbane, Australia to Los Angeles.

But then we stepped into another time machine. It started at 10:20 AM, but after three hours, the time was 3:20 PM. The machine had launched us two hours into the future, and changed our location from Los Angeles to Dallas.

Poor March 2nd: It started with twenty-four hours. The first time machine added five hours to the thirteen lived inside the machine, for a total of eighteen. So March 2nd had forty-two hours. But then the second time machine took away two hours from it, and the hapless day finally ended after forty hours.

People say they want more hours in a day. I don’t think they know what that really means. My body didn’t know what to do, and it ended up sleeping thirteen hours that night. It needed at least two weeks after that to know when it should go to bed and when to get up.

The time machine we sat in on April 27th was kinder in a sense. After 13 hours of working, it took us a day into the future. We never lived April 28th, and whenever we call home, we find that we are talking to people who are living 15 hours in the past.

Photo: public domain / Cweyer

You may also like...

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *