You may be wondering how I am managing to write this, as my Fisher Space Pen was left sitting on the Cool Down desk when we were heaved through the temporal rift. Against my better judgment, I've allowed Tod to teach the caveman how to make fire. I'm using the charred ends of twigs to inscribe this message on a piece of sabretooth tiger hide. The rest I fashioned into a new, warmer, labcoat.
The reason I'm keeping this journal is primarily as an apology to the future. We've done so much more than bending blades of grass that I can only hypothesize what drastic changes Tod's actions have had on the future. The dystopia that you most likely are living in is no doubt due to Tod's interactions with the caveman we've met. I ask that you might forgive him, he knows not what he does.
Anyway, I'll write more later. The three of us are about to watch one of my favorite films, The Dead Zone, on Tod's iPhone.
Sincerely,
Dr. Emmet
Dr. Emmet
No comments:
Post a Comment