by Samuel Garcia
For want of a nail the shoe was lost.
For want of a shoe the horse was lost.
For want of a horse the rider was lost.
For want of a rider the message was lost.
For want of a message the battle was lost.
For want of a battle the kingdom was lost.
And all for the want of a horseshoe nail.
The day I stepped on a nail was the worst day of my life.
We were playing in outside. Somehow, just somehow, it was protruding from the ground.
I screamed.
Then came an onslaught of infection, surgeries, amputation, atrophy, innumerable doctor and therapists, bedstays, quarantines... friends left, family died off...
I did what anyone would do after years and years of focused determination to overturn these events.
...
I built a time machine.
...
After a jump to the left, a step to the right, and madness after the warp, and almost falling a down, I dropped into our old family barn. I heard the children playing and laughing. Me.
I thought. And thought. I leaned onto my cane. The crutch of my existence.
I just stood there.
I glanced at the place where the nail was supposed to be. It was not there.
I grabbed a nail from the barn, hobbled while they were gone, and stuck it upwards in the soil. And warped away.
I stepped back from the jump and planted my cane to set myself.
While I do not walk the space of this universe, I walk time. That nail was my first step.
Time is fixed.
...
After a jump to the left, a step to the right, and madness after the warp, and almost falling a down, I dropped into our old family barn. I heard the children playing and laughing. Me.
I thought. And thought. I leaned onto my cane. The crutch of my existence.
I just stood there.
I glanced at the place where the nail was supposed to be. It taunted me with it's rusty shine.
I yanked it from the mud, hobbled while they were gone, and dropped in by the barn. And warped away.
I stepped back from the jump. No cane. My leg is back.
I will walk to right the wrongs of the past, present, future.
Time is plastic.
...
After a jump to the left, a step to the right, and madness after the warp, and almost falling a down, I dropped into our old family barn. I heard the children playing and laughing. Me.
I thought. And thought. I leaned onto my cane. The crutch of my existence.
I just stood there.
I glanced at the place where the nail was supposed to be. It taunted me with it's rusty shine.
I saw myself yank it from the mud, hobble while they were gone, and drop in by the barn. And warped away.
But if I saw myself here, is there more than one line of time?
I slide to each universe, looking for my equivalent selves, wishing their time and observing their sadness and happiness. That time when I stepped on and stepped back from the nail.
Time is parallel.
...
And on and on and on...
