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?
The future me came back and read my stories.
Then he just laughed and laughed and laughed.
My past was awesome and my future will be too.
Right now could use a little work.
Envelopes keep arriving from the future with best-selling books in them.
I’d type them out and submit them but man, typing is hard.
Once, for fun, I picked up the phone and dialled a number that was like 30 digits long.
A woman from 2204 answered, made some cryptic remark about ant people and then the phone went dead.
Will the me of ten years hence look back and grimace?
I bet he’ll not like “hence” sitting there like a clod.
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.