She busied herself cleaning.
"Look at this. It could have ruined it."
Dale watched while she cleaned the table then took everything, including the tin, into the kitchen, returning a few minutes later with a sparkling clean tin that she put back down. She resumed her staring; so did Dale.
Leaning forward suddenly, as if she had all the answers, Amanda prized off the lid — somehow she never struggled with them like Dale did — and pulled out the strange message, reading it, freckled face frowning in annoyance, before she put it back, mumbling about what a stupid message it was. She was a beautiful woman, almost thirty now, a year older than him, and her slender features always reminded him of an almond. She was going a lovely golden color from all the sunbathing — the summer actually doing what everyone wished it would: offering up beautiful days full of light and warmth, which was rather unusual for the normally eccentric British climate.
The light of the clear blue sky poured in through the expansive living room windows, encouraging them to catch up on chores out in their multi-colored garden.
"Shouldn't something be happening?" said Dale, finally sitting back down on the sofa next to Amanda. "And why the hell did I write such a cryptic note for us? Ugh, this is too weird, it can't really be true anyway, can it?"
"What other answer is there? Unless one of us is playing the worst joke ever on the other, then we really do learn how to travel in time at some point and come back and bury the tin and the note." Amanda looked at it again, shaking her head, hair shifting off a shoulder as she turned to him and said, "You aren't, are you? Playing a cruel joke?"
"Honestly, I'm not. And I know you aren't, so it must be true. But why such a weird message? Hexad. What the hell's that?"
"I don't know, but I guess the note is so strange as you have to write it. I think that's right." Amanda was lost in thought for a second, trying to get things straight in her head.
"What? Waddya mean?"
"Well, now we have the note, it means that at some point in the future we have to travel back in time and leave it for us, right?"
"Um, yeah, I guess. But I could write something that explained things a little better, couldn't I?"
Amanda shook her head. "No, you can't. Look, we dug up the tin this morning, read the note, yes?"
"Well, duh."
What's she getting at?
"So, it's happened. It means that this has happened, we just experienced it. So when you do write the note you have to write it exactly as it was written, as that's what we found."
"Ugh, this is making my brain hurt. But what if, whenever we do make the note, I write something different? Then we would have a better idea of what the hell is going on."
"But you don't, do you?"
"Why not?"
Amanda let out an exasperated sigh. "Dale, you don't because you didn't, won't. If you did then we would have read something different and not be having this conversation, so whatever you write in the future and we read is exactly this. So when you do it you have to write what is on the note. There's no other choice. It's already happened and obviously it leads to whatever allows us to eventually travel back and tell us this." Amanda waved the piece of paper about.
"My head hurts. Time travel is really confusing, and we haven't even done it yet."
"Not us, not yet, but we will. How cool is that?"
Dale got up, suddenly animated again. "Yeah, you're right. Totally freaking amazing. But when? And how?"
"I don't know, but it's going to be pretty exciting isn't it? Imagine, you and me off doing something totally mad. I bet our lives will never be the same again."
"You and me against the world eh?"
Dale sat back down, going over the morning in his head, trying to make sense of it all, finally realizing that you simply cannot make sense of such things — that way lies madness.
~~~
They sat in the living room for half an hour more, both expecting something to happen, something
"Look at this. It could have ruined it."
Dale watched while she cleaned the table then took everything, including the tin, into the kitchen, returning a few minutes later with a sparkling clean tin that she put back down. She resumed her staring; so did Dale.
Leaning forward suddenly, as if she had all the answers, Amanda prized off the lid — somehow she never struggled with them like Dale did — and pulled out the strange message, reading it, freckled face frowning in annoyance, before she put it back, mumbling about what a stupid message it was. She was a beautiful woman, almost thirty now, a year older than him, and her slender features always reminded him of an almond. She was going a lovely golden color from all the sunbathing — the summer actually doing what everyone wished it would: offering up beautiful days full of light and warmth, which was rather unusual for the normally eccentric British climate.
The light of the clear blue sky poured in through the expansive living room windows, encouraging them to catch up on chores out in their multi-colored garden.
"Shouldn't something be happening?" said Dale, finally sitting back down on the sofa next to Amanda. "And why the hell did I write such a cryptic note for us? Ugh, this is too weird, it can't really be true anyway, can it?"
"What other answer is there? Unless one of us is playing the worst joke ever on the other, then we really do learn how to travel in time at some point and come back and bury the tin and the note." Amanda looked at it again, shaking her head, hair shifting off a shoulder as she turned to him and said, "You aren't, are you? Playing a cruel joke?"
"Honestly, I'm not. And I know you aren't, so it must be true. But why such a weird message? Hexad. What the hell's that?"
"I don't know, but I guess the note is so strange as you have to write it. I think that's right." Amanda was lost in thought for a second, trying to get things straight in her head.
"What? Waddya mean?"
"Well, now we have the note, it means that at some point in the future we have to travel back in time and leave it for us, right?"
"Um, yeah, I guess. But I could write something that explained things a little better, couldn't I?"
Amanda shook her head. "No, you can't. Look, we dug up the tin this morning, read the note, yes?"
"Well, duh."
What's she getting at?
"So, it's happened. It means that this has happened, we just experienced it. So when you do write the note you have to write it exactly as it was written, as that's what we found."
"Ugh, this is making my brain hurt. But what if, whenever we do make the note, I write something different? Then we would have a better idea of what the hell is going on."
"But you don't, do you?"
"Why not?"
Amanda let out an exasperated sigh. "Dale, you don't because you didn't, won't. If you did then we would have read something different and not be having this conversation, so whatever you write in the future and we read is exactly this. So when you do it you have to write what is on the note. There's no other choice. It's already happened and obviously it leads to whatever allows us to eventually travel back and tell us this." Amanda waved the piece of paper about.
"My head hurts. Time travel is really confusing, and we haven't even done it yet."
"Not us, not yet, but we will. How cool is that?"
Dale got up, suddenly animated again. "Yeah, you're right. Totally freaking amazing. But when? And how?"
"I don't know, but it's going to be pretty exciting isn't it? Imagine, you and me off doing something totally mad. I bet our lives will never be the same again."
"You and me against the world eh?"
Dale sat back down, going over the morning in his head, trying to make sense of it all, finally realizing that you simply cannot make sense of such things — that way lies madness.
~~~
They sat in the living room for half an hour more, both expecting something to happen, something
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