Time Travel discussion
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Let's write a Time Travel Story!
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But he knew this was no dream. "Where the hell am I this time?" he asked himself, almost afraid to look out through the shadowy dawn. "And when?"
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She always seemed to be able to complicate life - his, his neighbours', hell, the whole universe. Her ability for shifting in time, seemingly with no motivation or control, changed the way the cosmos made sense!
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Yep, just as he suspected. The faint ozone smell that acompanied a time shift. So now to figure out where, or more accurately, when she had left him this time.
From past experience he'd learned to ditch anything which might give away that he was not of the time in which he'd been dumped. He decided to keep his trousers on and the T shirt too but he needed to get as far away from the Pinto as possible.
The highway was deserted, except for the baby blue Thunderbird Personal Rocket ahead. He could see Sarah's long curly red hair through the back window, her damn Rottweiler Bosco beside her. He flipped open the warn-looking console cover, keyed a morph code into the keypad hidden there, and pressed the MORPH key.
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But it was too late. She was gone. At the last point he'd seen her stood a lone hitchhiker with a confident smile.
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And because of the paradox created by such an implausible impossibility, time began to run backwards.
First Bosco disappeared, then Sarah, the hitchhiker switched to the Thunderbird, and Earl let the accelerator slow. "Why the heck do I want to involve myself with that crazy female again", he mused, and pressed the TRANS-SHIFT button to see what new vistas would appear.
Time running backwards? It was happening before his very eyes - the man stood up, Sarah was stomping backwards, but he was standing still. Had they reached a point where the universe could no longer expand and had begun to shrink and, if so, what did this mean for him?
Earl stuck his head out the window to whistle the tune he and Sarah had used for years to indicate extreme danger. Sarah looked around, realization forming on her face, while Bosco's growled, deep and low in his throat. Sarah and Bosco trotted to Earl's vehicle, got in the back and waited while he keyed a time shift code into the monitor, which sent them speeding to a reset point, their home time, 2014.
Earl looked at his wife and grinned. "I'm telling you, Sarah," he said, "we've got to stop these crazy Time jaunts. If we don't get moving the kids are going to be late for school."
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"So, honey," Sarah said with a wicked smile, "let's get the kids off to school and then go for a drive in the country.""What country?" asked Earl.
"Sweden, ninth century, where we can find Ragnar Lodbrok preparing to invade France."
Hyperlink for fellow writers to learn about this legendary Viking leader: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ragnar_L....
Viking blood - that's what Sarah had. Her DNA had been tested and the link to the Viking warriors was indisputable. Wherever else they travelled, whatever else they did, she always wanted to invade Scotland or France - no point in arguing.
That sort of complicated things, with Earl's family attachment to the Templars. They had "adopted in" Earl's great-great grandfather, a Templar that escaped the torture and mayhem in France, and so Earl kept wanting to go back to the glories of the Temple.
Maybe is was destiny. Sarah's Viking blood and Earl's Templar roots combining to revive the glory of the Templars and protect the treasure. Only first, they had to find it.
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As the two young Vikings, Ragnar Lodbrok and Lagertha, walked across the thawing field now dotted with flowers, the first harbingers of life, they talked and laughed as if they had no cares. It was not a time to worry, it was a time to celebrate the end of winter and restock their boats for the spring raids. When they were a short distance from a couple roasting a rabbit beside an isolated hut, Ragnar threw back his head and screeched like an angry eagle, while Lagertha raised the wineskin she was carrying and smiled at their friends, Earl and Sarah, who Lagertha could see were, as usual, bearing gifts that would no doubt do amazing things.
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Earl had started to develop Sarah's casual attitude to time travel. He felt in his bones that something was wrong though. Who had ever seen Vikings with AK-47s before?
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Ragnar raised one high like a trophy, then grinned at Sarah and fired a quick burst skyward. Earl looked to his wife and said, "this has to stop.""What's the harm?" she replied, mischief in her eyes, "there's only one clip."
Earl, hoping to deflect Ragnar's attention away from the weapon, held up a compass. "Ragnar," Earl said, "how would you like to know the direction you are traveling, even at night?" Ragnar stopped his play, and with doubt in his voice, asked, "Is this possible?"
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Lagertha replied, "I think I need to learn, too. Ragnar gets lost coming out of our yurt. I'm the one wish a sense of direction."
Lagertha laughed at her own little joke and added, "I'm buying Ragnar a homing pigeon at the next market. He doesn't only get lost coming out of our yurt - he seems to take a long time finding his way back."Ragnar didn't laugh, he just said, "Homing pigeon - how do you know of such things?"
"Here's something she won't know about," Earl said as he pulled a small clay jug from his bag, removed the cork, and poured out a group of small red-pointed sticks. "We call them strike-anywhere matches." With a show of ceremony, Earl struck the match against a rock, and looked from Ragnar's face to Lagertha's as the fire flared.
Ragnar looked unimpressed. "The other man showed us this! Do you have that thing he called Dyn-a-might?""We liked that."
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Ragnar looked up thinking. "He looked like you Earl, but not you...he was much much older."
Sarah shot Earl an accusing look while saying, "And you accuse me of stirring trouble." Earl held his hands up as if in surrender, "I am not responsible today, for what I haven't done yet!"
Lagertha smiled wickedly, winked at Ragnar, and said, "Ragnar and I want to travel with you, back to where you came from."
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Earl lounged in his super ergonomic every surface chair, its comfort level changing with his mood and brain waves. Had he chosen the right time to step in and make a difference? They had a flashlight, with fresh batteries, the compass, and the AK-47, but without the dynamite they would not blow a big enough hole.
Each person writes three sentences or less. The story can go in any literary direction, as long as it remains a Time Travel story. Speaking of direction, the story can travel forward or backward in time.
Any member of the Time Travel Group can join in, but must wait for three other writers to post before making another post.
No off-thread posts on this thread. Stick strictly to the story. Keep it clean.
Also, you cannot kill our main characters, Earl, Sarah and Bosco. I'm sure no one wants to kill our fun! So, we can put these three time-travelers in grave danger, but never in the grave.
If you wish to discuss this thread, you may do so at:
https://www.goodreads.com/topic/show/...
AND THE STORY BEGINS:
Earl sat in his Ford Pinto, blinking at the road upon which he found himself parked beside. The pavement seemed to hover a foot off the ground. He started his car, turned on his left turn signal and inched forward sheepishly as a ramp pulled itself like toffee from the levitating road and neatly tucked itself under his front wheels.