So much for Caesium

I had the day off from my work as quality control at the Powser’s pickle factory and decided to take a time-travel trip. I chose to go to the afternoon of May 13th, 1861, and to Dürkheim, Germany, the University of Heidelberg, room zwölf, the laboratories of Gustav Kirchhoff and Robert Wilhelm Bunsen.

Kirchoff and Bunsen were looking through their duel eye-piece spectroscope. They spoke in high animated tones. Kirchoff was waving his arms, Bunsen was grabbing clumps of his own hair. I cleared my throat and they looked over at me. I had my phone set to Google German translate. (My time machine has time/space wi-fi.) I opened a bottle of champagne and said, “Congratulations on discovering the element Caesium!” Kirchoff and Bunsen shook my hands, drank directly from the bottle, and sang the popular ditty, Darn, I Love Your Knitted Ways.

I told them I was from the future, and their discovery will make a difference because caesium is the basis of the world clock. The clock keeps time by blasting a caesium atom with energy, which reacts with pulses of light 9 billion times a second, thus keeping time accurate and safe for everyone. Kirchoff, the moodier of the two, said “That’s it? It’s a fancy watch?” and poured the caesium down the drain, flushing it with water. Cesium reacts explosively with cold water, so the sink exploded and the laboratory caught fire. The three of us barely got out in time.

I wished them the best and came back to my usual time and space. I was tired, so I took a nap.

Gravity never sleeps

The ghost of Sir Issac Newton appeared in my living room. I happened to be sitting on my couch waiting for the saliva from my mouth to finally reach my shirt.

The ghost of Newton said, “Of all the illegitimate places to find myself!” I sucked back the saliva and said, “Have a seat.”

The ghost of Newton said, “Though I am deceased, I prefer my ethereal corporeal mist not be sullied by your dilapidations.” I said that I often prefer standing myself.

I said, “I’m curious. Why have you chosen to ghost me and my home?”

“My preference would be haunting with my kindred spirit chum, Samuel Pepys, pallid hand in hand, strutting conjoined alongside the subterranean Tyburn brook,” said the ghost of Newton.

I said, “You’re saying you had no choice in the matter.”

The ghost of Newton looked at me, sighed, stared out the window, and morphed into a fly. As a glowing speck, he buzzed around the room, landing on the remains of a bagel.

Fwelp and Me

I’m friends with an ant named, Fwelp. Fwelp and I have been friends for almost five years. We met at a park. I was sitting at a picnic table, eating a slice of watermelon, when I heard a slight, “Might I have a little piece, please?”

I looked down at the ground and saw Fwelp waving. I held my finger and thump apart to try and guess gauge the size he wanted. Fwelp said, “Bigger, please.” I asked, Would like to come up on the table and join me?” Fwelp nodded. I lowered my finger down to Fwelp’s level. Fwelp hopped on. I brought him to the tabletop. I used a spoon to carve out the requested size piece and placed it in front of Fwelp. We munched away on our pieces.

When we were done, we gave our names and shared stories. We got along so well that I asked if Fwelp would like to live in my backyard. Fwelp agreed.

I brought Fwelp home and we dug a series of tiny tunnels in my backyard. I provided Fwelp with pieces of bread and cookies to store in his new home.

Every morning I go out back and whisper into Fwelp’s home, “Good morning.” Fwelp echoes back the same. Fwelp and I often watch television at night. Fwelp likes the old shows, like Gunsmoke, and Adam-12.

Lighted

I’m usually a person. But at a little past one today, I became light.

What happened was I was sitting at my desk, working on my new book, Fooded, which is about how food has strong opinions about things, and when you eat food, you gain their opinions, and that’s why people often contradict themselves after a meal. Suddenly I hiccuped and became light.

As light, I passed through the window in my office at 671,000,000 mph. The things that I flew by outside appeared distorted to me. But I never felt nauseous or thought I might throw up, which is how I always felt when someone was driving me in a car, and they suddenly sped up.

I was also aware that I didn’t have my usual thoughts of worry and disdain. Instead I felt invincible. And I had an incredible sense that I was as long as the Universe, and I was willing to bet everything I had if a tape measure that long could be obtained.

The really interesting thing to me as light was that when I saw other light, I suddenly felt like we were both standing still on opposite street corners of a dusty old mining town. I would nod at them. They would nod back. I would say, “Yep.” They would say, “Yep.”

And then suddenly I was a person, back at my desk in my office. I became terrified of the light in my room and shut off the switch. I sat trembling in darkness.

Ashbrat

I got in my time-travel machine and went back to August 25th, 1835, New Salem, Illinois, afternoon. I parked the machine behind a tree and walked until I got to the main dirt road.

After walking on it for a few minutes, I saw a man riding toward me on a horse. His head hung low and he was crying. I waved to him and said, “Excuse me.” He stopped his horse and looked up at me. He was Abraham Lincoln and he said, “Yes. What is it?”

I said, “I’m sorry for your loss.” He sighed and said, “I thank your kindheartedness. I loved Ann with a mighty heart. She died before her time. I’ll right be mourning her for years to come.”

I told Lincoln about my cat Ashbrat. She was my heart’s delight. But then she was run over by a truck on the freeway behind our house. I still miss her to this day.

Time spent with Lucy

I went for a walk and came upon the ghost of Lucille Ball. She asked if she could walk along with me. I said yes. I say yes a lot.
We walked and she talked about what was on her mind. Like how she’s still really creative, even though she’s dead.
I suggested maybe she draw. Drawing is something you can do, and you don’t need a stage, or an audience. I said if she liked, I would get her some sheets of paper and a pack of colored pencils. She said she would like that.
We walked near a store. I went in and bought a pad of paper and a container of Crayola colored pencils. They’re really good. I came out and the ghost of Lucille Ball was still there, waiting for me.
We went to a nearby park and to a picnic table. I opened the pad and the Crayolas. She picked up a green pencil, but she dropped it. She tried picking it up again, but dropped it again. She wanted to give up.
I said it had probably been a long time since she tried to pick something up, and encouraged her to try again. After two more tries, she was able to grip it.
She drew an image of a dancing bear. She used other colors, for instance, blue and red. When she was done, she held it up to show me. I said it was good. She smiled and started to draw another picture.