The Watch - Part 1

“... And judging by the extremely complex theories surrounding the concept of Time Travel, it is safe to say that we will not be able to succeed in travelling forwards or backwards in time with today’s technology. If the possibility of travelling through time were successful, it would take at least another few years before we are capable of building that kind of high-powered technology needed to transport us into the past or future, depending on what one is easiest. However, considering that no matter which way you travel, whether it is to the past or future, you are always going to be confronted with the near-impossible-to-figure-out paradoxes, thus making the process completely and truly unpredictable.

“In conclusion, we as a generation may not be able to visit the past or future as there are far too many complications along with Today’s soon-to-be outdated technology, but given enough time and patients, I believe that we will be able to meet our ancestors or our great, great, great - grandchildren.”

“Thank you for listening.”

The whole class clapped at Amy’s presentation. Her whole body deflated with relief that it’s over and sat down at her seat at the back of the class. I remember when I had to do my presentation. I wanted to write about Time travel as well, but considering that Amy had picked the same, I thought I wouldn’t copy her and do the second thing that interests me most. The entire thing from beginning to the end was the worst ten minutes of my life, and most certainly the longest. I dropped my notes as I was walking to the front of the class so I was already bright red with embarrassment by the time I started. My hands couldn’t stop shaking throughout and my voice constantly cracked with nerves. My presentation was about how the Universe works and its many features including the many billions of galaxies, trillions of stars, and the many exoplanets that scientists have discovered floating around outside of our own solar system. I did manage to get through it, but stumbling over my words every now and again did not help one bit. But, despite everything being against me, I managed to secure myself a respectable C grade. The moment the presentation ended and I was allowed back to my seat, I deflated as if someone took a pin and stabbed my chest with it. I practically ran back, which wasn’t the best thing to do considering I nearly tripped over my own feet, but luckily I smoothly transitioned from falling over to making it look as if I was going to sit down in one move, and no one was any the wiser.

“And thank you for that well written and spoken presentation,” our English teacher, Mr Jones said, as soon as the clock ticked over to four O’clock, signalling the end of the class, and the end of the school year as well. In a well-orchestrated routine, everyone packed away their belongings, stood up from their desk and headed towards the door.

“Not just yet,” he said. “First of all, I need everyone to hand it their homework.” Everyone stopped in their tracks, looking puzzled.

“What homework,” Peter said.

“Are you telling me that none of you have done the homework that I set for you last week,” he said looking around with a disappointed expression.

“You didn’t set us any,” Peter spoke up for the class again.

There were a couple of pregnant seconds before Mr Jones cracked a smile and started laughing. “Your faces,” he chuckled.

That’s Mr Jones for you. Likes to play jokes on the class.

Despite his constant playing around, we always come out of his lessons having learnt something, and smiling at how pleased we were at having learnt that piece of information, no matter how small it was.

The entire class sighed in unison, Mr Jones stepped to one side to let us out, and we all bundled out of the door.

My home wasn’t that far away, it was only a couple of minutes’ walk away from college, allowing me to not worry about missing the bus or train and instead have a relaxing walk home each day.

“Hey, wait up,” Tom, my best friend, said. His last lesson of the day was Maths and, like me with English, he had a natural talent for it. He could work out the most complex of sums - well, they are to me anyway - in hardly any time at all.

Tom doesn’t live that far from me so we always meet up when going to college and say goodbye halfway to home. Tom was the same height as me, about 5’5, dark hair, brown eyes, round face, great personality, and always have something funny to say no matter what the situation is. Tom was the kind of person that could come up with something witty without warning and with ease. It was as if his brain was a wit-making factory that never fails to make a dodgy product.

“How was your day?” Tom asked.

“Not bad, you?”

“Could have gone better. I forgot my science assignment, didn’t I? I put it on the sodden counter this morning and completely forgot to put it in my bag before I left for college.” He has a habit of doing that. He was notorious for forgetting his maths homework all throughout high school, which the teachers were not happy about one bit as you can imagine.

“But that’s alright,” he said, “I’ll hand it in tomorrow.”

“You do realise that today is the last day of term before the summer holidays, don’t you?”

“I do,” he said, “but there is always a limbo stage between the last day and when they hand all assignments to be graded,” he explained.

“And they’re letting you do that?” I asked more surprised than sceptically.

“They always allow you to do that,” he said as if I should have known that.

“Fair enough,” I shrugged. “Learn something every day.”

“Oh, and you’ve never forgotten anything before, for school or college.”

“No,” I said simply, proudly.

“Oh, yeah, you haven’t, have you,” he said, cocking his head to one side just as he realised that.

“Come on,” I said, chuckling to his mannerisms, “I’ll buy you a Mars bar on the way home,” because I fancied one myself.

“Can I have a Snickers instead?” Tom asked.

“But I thought Mars was your favourite,” I stated, confused.

“It was, but lately, they’ve become a bit sickly, you know, almost as if I don’t like them anymore.”

“Ah,” I smiled, knowing what exactly has happened, prompting Tom to ask me through his confused expression.

“You’ve over exposed yourself to them,”

“I don’t understand,” Tom said, intrigued.

“Well, your favourite chocolate bar is Mars, and so you’ve had one every day on the way home from school and college, very rarely without fail. Your body has gotten bored, forcing you to have something else. In some extreme cases, people can suddenly find themselves allergic to their favourite foods because their bodies have gotten bored and reject the food.”

“Oh,” Tom said simply. “That’s rather scary if you think about it, at any point your body could reject pizza.”

“Yeah, that is a scary thought, but I’m not sure if I have it as frequently as you had a Mars bar.”

“Well, either way, you’ve learnt something new and now me, too. Consider us even.”

“If you like.” I agreed.

TO BE CONTINUED...

Thanks for reading

Antony Hudson

(TonyHadNouns)

Audio File (mp3)