Down a rabbit hole darkly
Jan. 27th, 2005 08:19 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
taratemimaBecause I remembered it was both Lewis Carroll's b-day and the anniversary of the liberation of Auschwitz.
I apologized if I haven't written earlier. Some time tourists escaping Auschwitz landed in my room.
Just the thing to top a rotten day, huh? Snow, sore throat, the only thing to entertain myself was asking myself if Godiva is too good to use for a s'more. I walk in, prepared to wolf down supper, read fandom kerfuffles and collapse in a puddle of self-pity.
I stop thinking of pity when I seem them. For people from the future, they sure look ordinary--long brown overcoats, hats, little controls in their hands. Their eyes struck me. Their eyes were wide, their glances were furative. They had the markings of a narrow escape.
One of them, a North African man with a mohawk, finally fills me in. They toured significant events in history. The controls not only was for travel through time, but made the traveler invisible. Scientists didn't know what happened if a tourist changed history and didn't want to find out. It was all experimental, with yammerings about wormholes, photons, and time pockets.
They took a wrong turn somehow. They wanted to go to Prague at the start of the Hundred Years War to see the bishops thrown out of the window. They instead arrived at Auschwitz to see dead people thrown in a pit. Several hundred miles away and many centuries ahead--they still need to work on that direction thing.
They were about to punch out some other time when the invisibility shield faded--and they don't want to blame anyone, it could have been a glitch. Seeing five multi-racial, multi-species (OK, one of them was a man with a dog's face and tail) people frightened the guards enough to start shooting. One of them, a woman with mocha skin and high cheekbones, was shot in the leg (fortunately, they bandaged it quickly). They punched in the next date they could think of and split. They could hear people trying to take advantage of the distraction to climb the fence. They were shot too.
"Hold on," I said, "did you punch this date in because it was that anniversary?" I almost forgot today was the anniversary of the liberation of Auschwitz. I am afraid of being jaded. "Never again" has become "Oh no, not again."
"It wasn't random, we only go to significant dates in history" the mohawked man said, "and we cannot tell you why today is. All I can say is ask your government if a granary in Indiana is being guarded."
They disappeared with a plonk and blinding light. Catherine told me that the light in my room was too bright. I don't care now. I am looking for the telephone number for every granary in Indiana. If I call them, maybe somebody will answer.
I apologized if I haven't written earlier. Some time tourists escaping Auschwitz landed in my room.
Just the thing to top a rotten day, huh? Snow, sore throat, the only thing to entertain myself was asking myself if Godiva is too good to use for a s'more. I walk in, prepared to wolf down supper, read fandom kerfuffles and collapse in a puddle of self-pity.
I stop thinking of pity when I seem them. For people from the future, they sure look ordinary--long brown overcoats, hats, little controls in their hands. Their eyes struck me. Their eyes were wide, their glances were furative. They had the markings of a narrow escape.
One of them, a North African man with a mohawk, finally fills me in. They toured significant events in history. The controls not only was for travel through time, but made the traveler invisible. Scientists didn't know what happened if a tourist changed history and didn't want to find out. It was all experimental, with yammerings about wormholes, photons, and time pockets.
They took a wrong turn somehow. They wanted to go to Prague at the start of the Hundred Years War to see the bishops thrown out of the window. They instead arrived at Auschwitz to see dead people thrown in a pit. Several hundred miles away and many centuries ahead--they still need to work on that direction thing.
They were about to punch out some other time when the invisibility shield faded--and they don't want to blame anyone, it could have been a glitch. Seeing five multi-racial, multi-species (OK, one of them was a man with a dog's face and tail) people frightened the guards enough to start shooting. One of them, a woman with mocha skin and high cheekbones, was shot in the leg (fortunately, they bandaged it quickly). They punched in the next date they could think of and split. They could hear people trying to take advantage of the distraction to climb the fence. They were shot too.
"Hold on," I said, "did you punch this date in because it was that anniversary?" I almost forgot today was the anniversary of the liberation of Auschwitz. I am afraid of being jaded. "Never again" has become "Oh no, not again."
"It wasn't random, we only go to significant dates in history" the mohawked man said, "and we cannot tell you why today is. All I can say is ask your government if a granary in Indiana is being guarded."
They disappeared with a plonk and blinding light. Catherine told me that the light in my room was too bright. I don't care now. I am looking for the telephone number for every granary in Indiana. If I call them, maybe somebody will answer.
