Another Short Story I posted on Reddit, about time travel

I wrote another short story I posted to reddit. The post premise was as follows:

[WP] A time traveler is stuck in the past and their only chance of escape is to write something that will persist through history long enough to reach their self in the future and tell them how to avoid being trapped in the past

I wrote the following short story:

The monastery had sheltered me for 4 months. They were great, they didn't ask too many questions, and as I could read and write old English they put me to work copying books.

Thank god I majored in history, rather then that useless physics degree I almost took. Oh wait, I have a time machine to fix. I looked over at the lump of metal in the corner of the room. Only two of the monks knew about it, and they were of the opinion God had sent me for some divine purpose.

I sighed and looked back to the manual in front of me, adding another three petals to the drawing. I really hope somebody reads this thing and understands it. Herbology, Astrology, Cosmology and Biology, all in one original manuscript. All they need to do is overlap the pages, and work out the crypt key and they'll get my message.

It was a funny thing, knowing my manual survived before I had even written it, but not knowing if anybody would ever decrypt it. Trouble is, if I made it too easy then people would decrypt it too early, and learn about time travel. I just have to hope that it's decrypted in the few years after I made my jump.

Why the hell did I do it, anyway. Ah right. History books. "Why write em' when you can be in em' " I had said to my class only 1100 years from now. I'd had the opportunity, because of my expertise in the time period, to be the first man to go back in time. Neil Armstrong and Folami Sesay, the first men on the Moon and Mars, would have nothing on me. Well it worked. I just wish they had trained me better on fixing STUPID BROKEN TIME MACHINES.

I put the page I was on aside. And picked up the title page. I'd drawn it just for me, I couldn't bind it into the book, or people would work it out to soon. Besides, the book itself won't be named until after the man discovers it 500 years from now, which may open up some questions.

"The Voynich Manuscript, by Professor Arther A Carlson. Affiliated with the History Museum, London, MIT University, Massachusetts, & lately, of Hurley Priory, Berkshire."

I smiled, but felt a hole in my stomach. God I hope this works...

End --------

I rather liked writing this story. I've been fascinated by the Voynich Manuscript for for a lot of years. You can read a copy of the book here. By "read" I mean "view and be baffled".

--M

--- © Copyright Mark Langridge 2015

A Short story I wrote on Reddit

A Short story I wrote on Reddit as part of the post titled:
[WP] Before moving on to the next life, you are allowed to watch a video of your funeral. You don't like what you see.

The challenge was to write a short story, as noted in the title. Here is mine:

The video starts.

A few people are milling around, my corpse in a coffin less than 20 feet from a snack table. Cheap ass burial.

And then she walks in. Suddenly I'm clenching my ghostly fists.

I can't believe she would turn up. After what happened.

I haven't seen her in a year. I guess I'll never see her after this.

I grit my teeth. The fury still building.

She walks over to some others, a few words are exchanged but I'm not listening.

Just the rage that she's there.

She walks over to my coffin. It's a closed casket. I was a mess.

She lays her hand on my coffin and bows her head.

After what she did I don't even want her near my body.

Her lips move.

"Hey buddy, turn it up".

The guy in the robe reaches over and turns the knob.

"I can't believe you died" she says "before I said I'm sorry."

Tears are streaming from her eyes.

"I miss you" she whispers.

I grit my teeth harder, but can't hold back the tears.

"Goddammit I miss you too" I whisper back.

The screen fades to black.....

--- © Copyright Mark Langridge 2015