The Tinkerer

Jim walked into the lounge and clapped his hands together. His face and overalls both carried the marks of his labour: grease, oil stains and the sweat of his brow.

“It’s finished.” There was a certain satisfaction to the announcement, which was understandable. He’d been working on the damn thing all week. “Want to take it for a spin?”

“How does it work?” Amy asked. “I mean, how far can it go? How stable is it? Is it dangerous?”

Jim shrugged. “I tested it but only made a small leap and I feel fine. We should try it out together, go back to our wedding day. Make sure not to let ourselves see ourselves, just in case that causes problems.”

“Our wedding day? James…what the hell…I’m Amy. Your sister.”

“You’re Amy my wife. Unless I’ve somehow ended up in a divergent time stream.”

“You’re not making any sense.”

“I only went back a couple of years. Didn’t interfere with anything!”

“Wait. Did you invent a time machine?”


“I thought it was a jet-pack.”

“God no. I wouldn’t even know where to start.”

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