Chris began to question the wisdom of this trip as he stared at his iPhone no bars, no signal. He looked puzzled, like he’d traveled to another planet. Even though it felt that way, he was still on the third planet from the sun.
He muttered to himself, “Why did I go through that stupid glowing doorway?”
Shaking off the cobwebs, he started to walk around, still looking dazed like he’d wandered into a crowd of E.T.s. But in reality, they were all humans. Americans, in fact. Because right above those strange looking people, a flag waved the American flag.
His brain fired up like a hamster on cocaine, running that wheel as fast as it could.
He spotted a row of phones and immediately ran toward them. Picking one up, he held it to his ear no dial tone. Perplexed, he noticed a coin slot on the top right with words “U.S. Coins Only” engraved next to it. Below that, a small sign read “25 cents”.
Out loud, he said, “I have to pay to use a phone?”
Next to Chris stood a very Italian looking man in a blue Adidas track suit with white stripes running down the sides. The man glanced over his shoulder, saw no one else nearby, and muttered, “This guy kidding or something?”
Then he looked straight at Chris. “Pal, where have you been lately?”
Chris just stared, still in shock, as if talking to an extraterrestrial. “Ummm… Ummm…” He stammered and pointed at the coin slot.
The man rolled his eyes. “Do I look like a bank? Use 1-800-COLLECT”
It was like Chris had been bonked on the head with a tennis racket. “1-800 what?”
Before the man could roast him any further, Chris walked away, tuning out his insults like a pair of noise cancelling headphones.
As he wandered down the street, something caught his eye a newsstand. The New York Post headline stared back at him. The date read: October 31st, 1998.
Chris’s eyes widened like he’d just seen a ghost. He stumbled backward and tripped over nothing.
SMACK! His head hit the pavement. As he faded out, he heard someone shouting, “Are you okay…?
When he woke up, a nurse was standing over him.
“You had a rough fall,” she said kindly. “My name’s Nurse Joyce, and you were admitted to Elmhurst Hospital.”
Chris felt somewhat relieved like maybe he was finally back home. But, like in any horror movie, he realized the monster was still after him. And that monster was time itself.
He looked around the hospital room. The TVs were ancient, bulky things. People in the hallway read newspapers the same ones he’d seen at the newsstand. And no one, not a single soul, was looking at a smartphone.
Everyone was just… in their own heads.
That terrified him to his core.
As Nurse Joyce left the room, Chris turned toward the bathroom doorway. There it was again the same glowing light he’d stepped through before.
Without hesitation, he yanked all the cables from his body.
Machines began to beep wildly.
“Hey! Get back in bed!” Nurse Joyce shouted as she bursts back in.
But Chris was already running like a half back charging through a pile. He leapt through the glow.
Still in his hospital gown, he landed in his own bedroom.
He looked around, breathing hard. He knew he’d left everything behind his belongings, his phone, everything.
His iPhone was still back there.
On his desk sat a different device something sleek and alien. A thin sheet of glass, flexible enough to fold like paper, glowing faintly with icons that shimmered like liquid light.
Breaking the fourth wall, Chris looked straight at us.
“What have I done?”