Time Machine

by raince

There was no possibility of taking a walk that day.

Smoke was belching from the chimneys of factories. Children wearing masks as they ran and play, hiding their faces, hiding their smiles. The sky was as black as his eyes.

A man heaved as he sat on a chair in his apartment, shutting the blinds. He clicked the lifeless box of the TV and proceeded to watching the dreaded and monotonous news.

The world had reached the period where everything was going nowhere. Dark sky had swallowed the spirits of everyone. Dark visions.

Murdering each other through machines.

A dystopian fantasy had risen from their souls. Sinful and dangerous.

With no way out.

He sighed, clicking the television off. Might as well settle himself with a good book. That was something he hadn’t done in a while.

So, he found himself leafing through crispy yellowy pages. A lighter atmosphere had been shown to him.

That was when he realized.

There was an escape.

Go back.

Get back.

To the past.

Like a flash of lighting, he stood up. A brim feeling of hope was closing in inside him.

With that epiphany, he decided to work on a project. A machine that would let that escape happen.

He gathered all the devices he needed. He gathered all the knowledge there should be known about these devices. He gathered everything that can help him run away from this nightmare. Get away from it. The one thing his whole life was headed for.  Fight it.

So, he worked. For a very long time. It consumed his youth, his time, his effort. All he ever did was work.

Tinkering with machines and reading books, he worked. He worked night and day. He worked at the break of dawn and the flickering of the stars. He worked.

After some time, when the world was moving into its impeccable doom, when time was eating him raw, he attached the very last screw of his machine. He opened it, clicked it, admired it.

A clap of thunder echoed inside his threshold, the rattled sound of his creativity, the wind knocked out of this device and its profound advancement occurred  right in from of him.

The creator sighed, satisfied. It was finished. It was done.

Now, to use it.

He stepped forward, pushing the red button. One swipe of the doors of the machine would deliver him to the paradise he wanted. One move will end all his sufferings.

He carried his weak limbs inside the machine. He took a deep breath once it rattled again, now doing its job. The doors flew open. The sun bored down the clouds. It smiled down at him.

For the first time in seventy years, the man smiled. He lifted the crinkled side of his mouth and looked back at the sky, absorbing the light.

Absorbing the hope it had brought with it.

He slowly lifted a shaky foot, looking down at the perfectly green grass. How soft this grass might have felt. The grass that grew on the land of his ancestors. At the time of his ancestors.

Once his right foot landed on the ground, a tiny tear appeared from the hem of his pants, a tiny hole on the sole of his shoe.

All his weight on that foot had made him stagger forward, losing his balance.

He landed on the soft grass.

He looked up at the sky. The perfect blue sky his world had never known.

He smiled. This time with his eyes.

Slowly, he felt himself disappear.

Gone.

Good bye.

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