We went into the more coffee oriented part of the cafe’, and seated ourselves in one of the booths.

“So, tell me: when in ’01 have you come from,” I asked her.

“Hold on! First things first, my friend – my name is Zoe.” She held out her hand, and we shook on it as I told her mine.

“Right, then. Formalities aside, I’ll tell you what you seem to want to know.”

“No, I really want to know.”

“OK. I came from September, ‘01. I, um…I discovered that I could time-travel on the 11th. I was here. In NYC. The towers were collapsing and the dust was billowing through the veins of the city. I was running away from it as fast as I could, when this thought came to me. I thought of this time I was at this beach in ’99. Then, BAM! One second, I’m running on asphalt; the next second, my feet are pounding sand.”

“Wow.”

“Now, before I say anything else – why are you so interested in what I have to say?”

“Uh, well…I’m like you.”

“Bullshit.”

“I swear! I’m a time-traveller!”

She smirked at me. “Prove it, then…”