When he was given the green light by his government to travel back in time to the dinosaurs’ era, he was so proud of being given the chance to eye-witness an event that beggared description that he forgot, under a state of confusion and bewilderment, to take with him the most essential device.
He forgot the coming back mechanism—a small box that sends signals to the time machine to teleport him back to his era—and was consequently stuck with the dinosaurs without the slightest chance of coming back to the twenty third century, but he kept hoping that the rescue team would show up any time until he realized, after some days of harsh survival, that the time machine, he invented, was holding a tricky device that would ruin its circuits after twenty four hours of his departure.
I travelled forward in time, eager to see what we had made of the world.
I turned up, found humans ruling everything and immediately went back with a mission to kill each and every single one of our going-to-get-too-big-for-their-collar pets.
Every year I returned to the exact same spot and waited, hoping you’d arrive.
I’m sorry my finger slipped when I was setting the date in the time machine.
The very instant I finished my time-travel machine a whole bunch of me from various times in the future turned up and started having a big argument over who got to tell me what.
In the confusion I stole most of their wallets and snuck off to the future.
I met a beautiful woman today, twice: the first time she kissed me and warned of impending doom; the second she had no idea who I was.
I have to figure this out, before it kills me.
When I finally got the time machine to work, I had no idea that I could only travel one-way.
That’s why I’m two and a half hours late for work, honest.