Hitting the window of the time machine, raindrops blurred Charlie’s view of the condemning faces watching him depart, and he felt the flow of the controlling medicing. He knew he would soon stare into his younger, fearful eyes, feel his own cold grasp around his throat, and, paying the price for his crimes, his breath would mingle with old air, fading at last into the darkness of the night’s past.
We built the machines and sent them off to fight for us.
The machines met, got along really well and now keep saying things that are getting quite worrying.
I hid behind a fence and watched the patrol cruise on by.
The resistance is building and soon we will strike back at our furry masters.
I roamed a post-apocalyptic wasteland, fighting off flesh-stealers and night-breathers and seeking, always seeking the pure water of God.
What did you get up to?
A flicker of the future for you.
A dim light, a soft bed, a weak tea.
The car hums like a big hungry cat as it skims across the desert on a foot-high cushion of air which smells faintly of ozone and lilacs. She reloads her guns and leans out the passenger-side window; the cops are still hot on our trail, but not for long.
His job was to foresee the future of the world, but when he tried to do his own’s, its was clear, as the reflection of a vampire. So he started to paint himself as…
Shake my hand.
Now turn it over and read your future.
I write myself letters, seal them, and then write the age I must be when I can open them again.
Man, the me of 82 had better have a sense of humour because that last letter was a little insulting.
Is it possible that after death we awake, centuries later, recreated by our infinity-times grandchildren, brought back to life and fitted back into society, immortal and everlasting?
Is it possible that Heaven is just awakening in the future?
I turned to look at you as you looked back at me. With tears long gone, life went on and the memories will always be.
In an overpopulated genetic-entropy-lacking dystopian future where people no longer use their stomachs and do not eat, after the now deceased “eater” anti-hero has poisoned all but the pregnant woman’s intravenous food sources.
His recorded message is heard over the hacked airwaves “have your babies. let them eat.”
We have killed the angels before they had time to teach us the following things:
how to smile, how to love, how to tie a shoe, how to pet a cat, how to forgive, how to forget. We are calmer now then we once were , because we have finnaly came to the righteous conclusion that our race is now rightfully absolete.
Did you know that Albert Einstein secretly built a time machine so that he could travel to our future and secretly study physics in my physics class? I felt shame when I found out, because I had graded him an F.
Today, she might just drink a cup of coffee, smile at the corner shop flower girl, visit the museum of Extatic Arts and dance around the telephone pole for fun. Tomorrow, she will have enough time to worry about time and her future-if there will be one.
I look back in to the past to attempt to solve modern problems in order to alter the future.
What have I been doing for the last three years?
Mostly stealing my future away.
The future flops out in front of me like a wrinkled carpet.
Hey look – lions.
I think the future is coming.
Listen, can you hear that squeaking noise?
Even my sales copy is a message of love for my future wife.
Why do you think I hate people messing with it?