Heres another excerpt from the story Im writing. I jumped ahead a bit. I dont want to give too much away. Tell me your thoughts: “The Looking Glass” “Right on time.” Jason tried to focus taking a deep breath and exhaling quickly, the nausea ripe and hovering at the top of his throat. He felt the chair underneath him creak at the strain of his weight. “But then again you can’t help but be punctual…or late for that matter can you?” Jason saw the man standing at a desk, his back to him, bent over writing something. The room was large and the walls on each side he could see were covered in shelves of books. The ceiling was high and a chandelier hung lowly lit in the center of it. “How do you feel?” the man asked. Jason scanned the room as the nausea subsided. A large globe stood beside the desk and within the shelves that covered the walls were items spaced out among the books. Figurines and a sword, an old typewriter, wooden boxes no undoubtedly meant for keepsakes. A few feet away from where he was sitting two large leather chairs sat on either side of a small table with chess pieces. “Jason?” the man turned and leaned his weight against the desk waiting for him to respond. “How do you feel?” Jason met the man’s gaze. He was older, gray hair covered him from head to chin. A longer beard and he could easily get seasonal work as a mall Santa. His gray vest protruded, giving shape to his belly. The white shirt beneath was wrinkled save for his large crisp collar. “Better..I’m feeling better, where am I?” Jason responded suspiciously. “That’s not the question you’re looking for.” The old man replied placing both hands on the desk and sinking unto it. “We’re a little short on time, so pay attention.” The old man lifted himself off the desk and began stepping toward Jason. “Concentration, that’s the key. Time, Place, and don’t hold your breath when you go otherwise you’ll definitely throw up.” “The same goes for the return, but time will take care of itself, it always has. Just concentrate on place.” The old man was nearing Jason. Jason shifted in his chair as the old man approached. “Wait, what are you talking about?” Jason asked him. “Oh I almost forgot.” The old man let out a small laugh as he raised his finger in the air and took a seat next to Jason. Jason hadn’t noticed the chair sitting right beside him. Typical. “June 6, D Day, 2039. Make sure you write it down when you get back. The last “us” forgot to tell me the year. You know I’ve been sitting in this office every sixth of June for forty years because of that little error?” “Of course I missed a few. Couldn’t be helped, but I was pretty sure I wasn’t gray enough yet.” Jason shook his head trying to piece together the ramblings of the old man. “Wait…” He attempted to break the conversation. The old man continued steam rolling over Jason’s plea. “You can’t change much. Use it for the present, it’s meant to be a guide.” “You’re thinner than I remember.” The old sat back in his chair and let out a howling laugh. “You’re not gonna believe who killed Kennedy.” He sputtered in between bursts of heavy breathing and laughter. He leaned forward as if he had a secret to tell Jason, his arms resting underneath his outstretched torso. “You know I saw Jack the Ripper once in the Autumn of 88’, just for a moment. I didn’t recognize him. But the fog was just like the movies.” The old man caught himself. He was drifting, digressing. He seemed lost for a moment in thought staring down at the floor. He raised himself up and reached into his pocket. “He wanted you to have this.” The old man said as he handed Jason a pocket watch, the chain dangling comically as it found Jason’s hand. Jason took it and opened the watch. “Who wanted me to have it?” Jason quickly got his words out for fear he’d be interrupted again. “Dad.” The old man replied still looking toward the floor. “I don’t understand…who are you?” Jason’s frustration was building. He shifted in his chair and looked at the watch again. “I would have thought you’d be farther along by this point.” The Old man deflected his question. Then as if he’d suddenly changed his mind, he answered. “Look in the mirror.” Jason started to scan the room but there was no mirror in sight. Then it became clear. The old man looked longingly toward Jason and his eyes became wet and trembling. He looked up into Jason’s eyes. “How’s Rachel?” Jason was beginning to understand. This whole time he’d convinced himself that it was some rare blackout delusion he’d suffered. He’d cursed himself and kept silent hoping to fight it, suppress it somehow. Somehow it would go away, those few moments at a time that he found himself somewhere else. “It’s all in your head.” He’d told himself for years. But here among the relics and volumes of the past, he sat across from a relic of the future. He had traveled here, possibly many times before. Now once again he sat across from himself warning, advising, himself. “She’s good.” Jason answered finally as if he knew the man and nodded as he assured his older self. The Old Jason focused once again. “Concentrate. Time. Place.” Jason felt the nausea building in his chest, the room spun quickly around. He gripped the arm of the chair and in that moment he heard the faint call of a child fading quickly away. “Paw paw, dinner’s ready!” “Be right there Rachel.” Jason closed his eyes. When he opened them he was sitting on the edge of Rachel’s bed.
Posted on: Fri, 08 Nov 2013 13:51:52 +0000
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