Bobbing For Apples

Time travel does exist. Once you know how, you can build a machine for as little as five hundred pounds. But it’s a seedy affair. Not something you want to get involved with.

Because time travel works like bobbing for apples. Or rather, in that moment where in the middle of what is supposed to be a game for children, the water blinds and overwhelms you. 

Overwhelms is the crucial word. Time travel dunks you into the future, forces you to experience a world you were never meant to be a part of. 

Look at it this way. Don’t think about what the future contains. Consider what it doesn’t contain. All your friends, family will be long dead. All your books and worldly possessions nothing but dust. Your language. Your fashion. Your home. Do you think an Ancient Egyptian would marvel at a neon sign, or find its illumination shattering of everything he believes in? 

It’s best not think to think about how irrelevant you might be in the face of infinity. This is why you should leave time travel, and those who use it, well alone. You don’t want to end up in warehouse in Croydon, dunked into the far flung corner of the future, because you lost a card game with the wrong sort of people. 

So please, for your own sake, leave time travel well alone.