time travel

0: Nameless Faces

Submitted by Heather Jones on Sat, 12/01/2018 - 22:59

The world is made up of much more than brave heroes and spineless fools. Every person in every land, of every color, of every psyche - cold or hot, black or white, sad or glad, good or ill - are part of a great story; a rolling, thundering epic, starring nameless faces and every soul who has ever inhaled even a single breath. Invisible people you'll never meet, forgotten by time, stolen away in a gust of wind just outside of your temporal reach.

The Flying Dutchman

Submitted by Gina I. on Thu, 12/18/2014 - 22:52

The platform was smoky and crowded, people elbowing each other and stepping on toes without care. Soot and smoke hung heavily in the air, blackening the clothes and faces of all there. Through all this, a girl stood, pushing herself as far into a corner as she could, to avoid all the people. Her previously blue dress was now almost black, and her hair, though protected somewhat by a supposedly white sun hat, no longer held traces of the reddish gold it was.

Out of Time: Seven

Submitted by Anna on Wed, 06/27/2012 - 20:17

Dad caught, twirled, and set Mrs. Taylor on her feet at the other side of the room. Brodie had to steady her. She looked small between them, although she must have been close to my height. Do I, too?
“But this is wonderful!” Lydia Taylor said between breaths. “And overdue.” In all the times she scolded Brodie in front of me, I never saw her do so with such a wide, lovely smile. I expected her to burst into song.
“Whatever kept you was too cruel.”
“Time. Just time.” Dad smiled the way other people blink back tears.

Out of Time: Six

Submitted by Anna on Fri, 05/11/2012 - 19:34

I saw why we had taken a tumble on our exit. Brodie’s wooden front door was raised on a concrete step. The time machine door had also raised, but hinged itself half a meter too far left for the step. The two doors matched except for one detail. Where my eyes met a flower-etched panel of foggy glass on Brodie’s dark door, our time machine had the “translator key” watch. I could see the metal socket from the backside of the open door as well as the front.

Out of Time: Five

Submitted by Anna on Wed, 02/08/2012 - 00:31

He jolted upright. “Dog or boy?”
I felt my eyes widen and put my hands on my hips. “Boy!”
He pointed his bony forefinger at me. “Do you fancy him? Does he fancy you? What’ve you been talking about?”
I started to smile at the accusations, just a little after so much anger. If I didn’t explain our friendship, Dad would panic when they met. Brodie would seem to be a stereotypical fit boyfriend: big eyes, dark brown hair without his mother’s red in it, elfish face, deep voice, and almost posh accent.

Out of Time: Four

Submitted by Anna on Tue, 11/22/2011 - 21:06

I fell silent as we stepped off the pavement, out of the cold, and into the chip shop. I wrinkled my nose as feeling returned to it, inhaling the delicious smell of salt and vinegar. We crossed the black-and-white-checkered floor between the rows of two booths on each side.
In I way, I think our order of coping chips was to stall the actual coping. Even the much-pierced girl behind the counter must have sensed the discomfort between us.

All the Time in the World: Chapter 3

Submitted by Elizabeth Anne on Sat, 10/08/2011 - 23:26

 Just then, Sam walked down the steps. Melody snapped back to reality and shoved the sketch in her pocket before anyone saw it. This day was starting out really weird. She scooped up Valiant and turned towards Sam.

            “Hey!” Sam said, “Now that I’m done packing, why don’t we take the dogs for a walk and hang out?”

            “Great idea!” Melody said, smiling “I’ll go get my coat.”


Out of Time: Three

Submitted by Anna on Mon, 10/03/2011 - 21:17

“She’ll be all right?” immediately followed my exclamation and awkward embrace. I pretended I hadn’t buried my head in his black coat and that he hadn’t stroked my hair. But his lemony smell was still in my nostrils.
“Do you want to make sure?” he said. I nodded, and a few more tears blurred his image.
He disentangled himself and stood; I sprang to his side, unwilling to be alone for another second.
“Jess,” he said rather quietly, but his voice carried. She turned to look at him, at us together, and he waved.