August 16th (799 hits)
Category: Quotes & StoriesRating: 1.29 on 10 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by Isaac Zeccs (View user info) at 2004-05-19 03:07:58 EDT
There had been no logical rational behind the decision of how far to go back in time. The deciding factor had actually been the number of Dr. Frausman's favorite race horse. Minabird, lucky 16. Just a trivial obscurity.
The sad fact was, much of the process had been trivial in nature. From the original plans, to the hypothesis of the experiment, to the preparations, all important factors had been overlooked in the eagerness to do what no man had yet done. It was a race after all, and in the now notoriously ironic words of Dr. Frausman himself, "We'll do it quicker, and we'll do it better than some chink ever will."
The common misconception had been that time travel was going to work like it did in the movies. But there were no portals, no wormholes, no multiple embodiments of the same person, just 7.8 billion, frantic, unhappy souls.
In reality, time was more like a videotape itself, rather than one of the fictitious stories printed on them. Time could be manipulated, it could be reversed, and replayed at will, but the images printed on time's reel could not. They had already been created. Already printed by our own actions, recorded the tape of life. What was more, time moved uniformly. It was ridged, cumbersome, and all encompassing. Time was controllable, yet completely beyond control at the same time, for time would never be something that it had not been before.
The only aspect which time seemed to have no domination over, was the memory of itself, that had been imprinted in every mind which lived within time's bounds. The thoughts and inner emotions experienced by the inhabitants of earth were free roaming. Because of this rift in the homogeny of the universe's rules, the entire world was aware that they had already lived these days' actions before, but still had no ability to stop even the simplest events from occurring.
The term 'silent desperation' gained new meaning as Mark Avery bought his lotto ticket, knowing full well what the winning numbers would be. He screamed the most vulgar, forlorn thoughts he could muster inside his own head, as he slapped his dollar on the counter and quickly penciled in his usual numbers, that would win him nothing. His mind was adrift in the isolation of itself as his body moved in its predetermined course.
Bump into the tall man in the blue coat. Stop to light a cigarette in the alley. Smile at the pretty girl in the cafe window. Sneeze twice. He knew the routine by heart. He knew that when he got home, his daughters would want Chef Boyardee for dinner, and he knew that he would be fired at 8:12 that evening. It didn't matter anymore. He wanted to tell his daughters that. He wanted to max out his credit card on all the gifts that they wanted, but life continued on.
Life continued on for everyone. Routines, so well known that there was no shock or even pleasure in living anymore. But life continued. Karen Avery panicked as she lay in bed that night, knowing that her dad was going to be dead by the following morning. She knew as well, that her younger sister, Jessie, was probably far more frightened than her, because she was too young to understand what was happening to the world. Karen would have given anything to be able to tell her that it was alright, or to get out of bed and stop her father from drinking, but life continued on as it would have. 11:14.
"Jess... you awake?"
Karen already knew she wasn't, and understood that in a matter of minutes, she, herself would be asleep as well. She would wake at 8:22 to the screams of her 7 year old sister, and find her father cold and motionless in his chair. Remote in the left hand, Bottle of Southwestern Canadian Whiskey on the coffee table. She knew that she would cry, and she knew that she try to explain what happened to Jessie is the same frantic and trembling voice that had been used before.
She knew that it would be a beautiful day, that her friend Lily would call her to ride bikes, even though Lily probably didn't even want to this time around. She knew that she would spend several hours crying in the apartment manager's living room that smelled like marijuana smoke. Ultimately, she knew that as she looked out the window at the police officers arriving at the building, the clock would strike 12:43, and it would be August 1st, 12:44 PM. She would be braiding Jessie's hair, and it would be raining.
Karen looked at her sleeping sister on the bunk below her, tore off the page for August 15th on her Garfield desk calendar, and closed her eyes. It didn't matter anymore.
In the silence of the night, she could hear the faint hum of their TV. "To command the future, we must conquer the past. The day for that is now Mr. President, that day is today. By god almighty, we'll do it quicker, and we'll do it better than some chink ever will..."
-Isaac Zeccs
User Reviews
Submitted by honeycake (user info) at 2004-07-27 10:29:50 EDT (#)
Ranking: -2
You seem rather insecure. Perhaps you need some attention?
Distasteful.
Submitted by Shaxberd (user info) at 2004-07-18 16:55:37 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
I like this, although it's true that Vonnegut did get there first. A major theme would seem to be the loss of the illusion of free will. It may be too predictable, but If I was writing this, I'd have one character who was a wildcard, immune to the predicament all the characters seem to be in. That is, he'd be able to do things differently, but would be continually defeated by circumstance, which would conspire to keep the timeline as it was supposed to be. Or, a small group of characters with this ability, who were trying to nudge things back to normal. This would be a difficult story to keep interesting, but you seem to be a good writer. You can handle it.
Submitted by Zeccs (user info) at 2004-07-18 16:28:59 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Story of my fucking life, sublime.
Submitted by sublime (user info) at 2004-07-18 16:16:17 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Man, your name is a pick up line, you just have to say "Hey baby, ready for some Zeccs"
Submitted by Zeccs (user info) at 2004-06-01 18:45:57 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Thanks cat.
Submitted by Tastycat (user info) at 2004-05-31 19:33:38 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Zeccs.. you always fucking rock.
Submitted by Yes (user info) at 2004-05-24 18:53:06 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1
I liked it, a lot like vonnegut's Timequake though
Submitted by Zeccs (user info) at 2004-05-19 10:21:28 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
I won't lie, i wish more people would have read this, but i guess i can't something wild like that, when this post has to compete with "ubershite suxxxxxxxxx"
This is an adaption of a screenplay i've been writing for sometime, and i'm looking for ways to make it better. Give me advice on plot lines and whatnot if you feel like it.
Submitted by apollo88 (user info) at 2004-05-19 05:25:38 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Waaaay cooler than skool.
Submitted by Sideburns (user info) at 2004-05-19 03:57:15 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
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