The Time Traveller

March 22, 2011

In yesterday’s post I publish a few paragraphs of a story I started that I have named, “The Time Traveller”. I explained about this story in my previous post, so you can just read that for explanation. I think it will be fun, though, to publish the story as I write it. Whether it is a paragraph one day or a page the next, it will be nice to see how the story soars or sinks. Enjoy.


The Time Traveller

“I am a time traveller. That is what I think I am. What I guess I am, I mean.” I said it out loud. To no one. Then I lifted the giant sword and hacked again at the lantana. “Hack! Hack! Hack!” I said with each stroke and the spiky brambles fell away under the weight of the steel, filling the air with a spicy mint odour.

I don’t know why my father had a sword. It had been popular to have Japanese swords. It will be popular, I mean. Or, it would be popular. I don’t know how to express it. At school they never teach us that. Or taught us that. Anyway, I never knew then and I don’t know now how to explain what has happened and is happening to me. What you should know is that as I write this it is the year 1999 and I am in school. I am also 16 and I am either a time traveller or I’m going mad. This is what this journal is for.

I looked at the sword again and wondered why, if Japanese swords were popular, my father had something that resembled a claymore. I shrugged and looked at my handiwork, satisfied with the carnage, even though the weed would grow back in a week or two. Then I could do it again. One more time. I expect most people believe that if they could live their lives again they would improve on it, fix their mistakes, and be some sort of wonder-person. Have I, standing in the bush outside my backyard and hacking at shrubs with a fake sword disproved that?

“A moment of clarity.” I said it out aloud and looked around at the gum trees. “I never used the word clarity before. That must prove it mustn’t it?” I said it to the leaves and branches as my mind scrambled for thoughts. They were there. The memories. “I never used the word ‘clarity’ before, but I did later, so that must prove that I have come back.” I clenched my eyes closed so I could think. Something was coming and then I remembered the diary.




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