/arrives two weeks late with the Friday 500/
So this ended up being…not really a sequel, but a parallel to this story that I did like, forever ago. Yeah. It should have been longer, curse you 500 word limit!
This week’s prompt: The future and past collide! The challenge is to give us an extremely satisfying conclusion.
Jonathon Raymond Fields had never intended to get caught in a temporal mystery event. In fact, on the second of September 2003, accidentally entering the event horizon of his housemate’s girlfriend’s doctoral experiment was probably the last thing he would have wanted to do that day.
(The irony of the situation is this: wandering into the no-no zone surrounding the weird, glowing, generator-esque thing she’d set up in their kitchen turned out the be the last thing he did do that day.)
((The surprised cursing of his housemate as Jonathon felt his very atoms accelerating would be the last thing he ever heard in 2003.))
(((Why the girlfriend couldn’t use her own apartment, or, god forbid, the university laboratory for her first test run remained a mystery to Jonathon until the day he died, two hundred-some years in the future.)))
Regardless of Jonathon’s aversion to the situation, the point of the matter was that it did end up happening and the grad student had the dubious pleasure of becoming one of a surprisingly high number of people who have been (or will be, or should have been, or hadn’t yet been but probably would be) accidentally displaced in time.
Jon’s last thought before he left the 21st century forever ended up being a rather inane observation that his housemate and housemate’s girlfriend were not wearing the usual amount of clothing for two people who were supposedly doing science. The first thought he had in the 23rd century was promptly body-slammed out of his head by a killer time-hangover and the hard plaster of a wall that was approaching much to quickly for his comfort.
Jonathon spent much of his first evening in 2217 with a splitting headache and a general sense that nothing was quite as real as he would have liked it to be.
(Later he would be assured by the man named Alyc that these were normal symptoms of time jumps exceeding about a decade in either direction, but that would be later, when he stopped seeing double long enough to ask the name of his host and if they still had painkillers in the future.)
If anyone had told Jonathon that one morning he would stumble into his own kitchen on a quest for Captain Crunch and stumble out into a stranger’s home two hundred and fourteen years in the future with an empty stomach and a case of jetlag like you wouldn’t believe, he probably would have nodded and ended the conversation as quickly as socially acceptable and then continued to avoid them if he ever saw them in public, like at the mall or the dentist. He had to admit, he never would have chosen to add ‘renew social security number for immigration into the 23rd century’ to any list of goals he might have been forced to write in grade school.
No, becoming temporally displaced was never in the plan, but hey, at least there were robots and French fries had finally been perfected.