Continued from The Rock of Glory, but you should begin with Where Time Oughta’ Be. Stories told by ‘my watcher’ in I…
January 10, 2019
If we could ask our ancestors one question, what would it be? If we can task our children with one thing, what should it be?
I began writing a short story for my readers last month to express the idea of intergalactic time travel. Special individuals qualified to travel out of the earth’s biosphere and into the unknown galaxies, voyage to gain knowledge for people on earth.
With each successful trip back, our World Ambassadors lose a couple of years to their life expectancy due to intergalactic time zone changes, and the speeds they must think at.
One World Ambassador figured out how they could safely arrive back home and not see their people on earth decades older in thought. Although they lose up to five years each trip, rich knowledge on earth is gained as a byproduct of this process. Civilians, however, have been found to be on an alternative clock in contrast to our Ambassadors.
They’re each chosen seldom by individuals of higher society, and special governing entities. The people don’t know much about these intergalactic time travelers. Arguably a tax conversation to some, for the most part, we’ve come to see honesty is priceless.
Most people don’t believe the others understand our language, because they don’t understand our concept of time. Civilians also believe our World Ambassadors aren’t entirely transparent about the knowledge they gain out there. No one knows where they go.
When the first World Ambassador spoke in public, we found that she spoke in parables.
Promising to answer one question, our collective ask, “what’s it like there, tomorrow?”
The people were curious of her character, in having the bravery to speak directly to those of earth. These aren’t politicians of modern society. Each Ambassador as I’ve described them, or modern-day Buzz-Lightyear, can’t even explain the place our universal pin pals reside.
Anyways, the Ambassador answered, “well, if you’re curious enough, it’ll feel like forever once you get there, tomorrow. Tomorrow is forever, no more than it feels like now is never. Tomorrow is another vibration. Like a heavy New Years celebration. Often confused for time allocation. Happy New Year to our people, live as though tomorrow’s your staycation. It’s just like flight meditation. But Tomorrow is next year’s occasion. Be well, people, and don’t seek a reputation.”
No one understood that shit, and the crowd settled in a pant. No one cared for the way she spoke, it made them scared and they all croaked. Likely wanting to kill the messenger for that stupid rhyming flow.
One kid raises his hand, “you ask me no questions, I tell you no lies,” the Ambassador points.
“Where the fuck do ya’ll go?” A man shouts.
“In this universe, there’s only one place to be…” she responds.
“Liar! You shenanigan, answer the child…” the man hails and the crowd commends.
She exposes her palms. The kid walks forward, turns to grab a little girl’s hand. Together as they get closer to the Ambassador, she kneels. Facing the crowd, “shhhh….” the little boy says.
“Are you gathering the friends?” the little girl ponders.
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