Insight

Imagine if people had the ability to time travel across different eras? What if it were possible and done effortlessly without a doubt. Consider the possibilities if teleportation was possibility? To be able to teleport to any location in the world in mere seconds. Just think. Never being late to work, school, or anywhere else for that matter ever again. Or what if … what if telepathy was a thing? The ability to access the mysterious mind of another.

Time travel, teleportation, and telepathy - abilities that would surely fall under deep controversy yet their existence alone undisputed.

These very concepts and more that could only exist in the realm of science fiction have always fascinated 25-year-old Donovan Stowe. Every movie he ever watched, every book he'd ever read, he fantasized living in a world where even just one of these concepts was possible.

Donovan zipped up his jacket and glanced at his phone as he walked down his porch steps and into the sleeping neighborhood.

11:15 pm.

He had to get out for a few minutes to calm his mind after the harsh memory about what transpired that day at his work intruded his thoughts.

“Donovan. I need to speak with you for a moment.” The store manager, Mark Hovudson, pulled Donovan into his office. His voice was impatient and he kept it just low enough so that only Donovan could hear him. “Are you aware that you left some shoplifters walk out with just over $100 worth of merchandise yesterday evening?” He held up two empty packages that had been hastily torn open and a wad of plastic wrap. One package had contained a pair of wireless headphones, another had contained a gaming controller, and the plastic wrapping was that of a video game.

Donovan’s heart skipped a beat. Yesterday, he was the only one working in the store that evening. “Wait. What?!” Donovan said flustered.

“Do you recall having any suspicious customers last night?” Hovudson asked.

He remembered seeing a small group of high school age kids. They were a loud and obnoxious bunch. Other than giving them brief acknowledgment, he didn’t pay them much attention. He only wished they’d hurry up and leave. How could he have not seen them steal over $100 worth of merchandise?

“I bet I could tell you what you were most likely doing while the shoplifting was occurring,” Hovudson said. He turned in his chair so that he faced Donovan directly. “You were too busy fantasizing about video games and comics than what was happening in the store! Would that be a reasonable assumption?”

“It won’t happen again, Mark. I swear.”

“You’re damn right it won’t happen again!”

Donovan worked at a video game store called The Grind. He liked the name. It had some edge to it and it sounded like the perfect place for him. He didn’t consider himself a hardcore gamer. More casual. To him, like with most gamers, they were a great escape from reality for even just a few hours. His favorites were games that were full of action and set in a dark dystopian world. He could easily recommend some of his favorite games to customers and discover new ones. However, the joy of working at The Grind didn’t take long to wear off.

He kicked a loose stone down a drain gutter. What could he say, really? He had no excuse for his careless behavior. He really should have been paying more attention. What did it matter now? The loss of merchandise was already done. If he were perfectly honest, Donovan didn’t see himself working there much longer.

As he continued his reflective walk, quitting his job was becoming a more and more likely option.

The calmness of the night eased Donovan. Perhaps taking a short walk around the block and getting some fresh air was just what he needed.

The night air was breezy and comfortable but just cool enough for a light jacket. He made a personal pact. He would not think of anything to do with work whatsoever. He let his mind wander.

He never really speculated too much on the potential dangers and controversies surrounding time travel, teleportation, time travel and the like. Sure that kind of thinking was one sided and foolish but as far as Donovan was concerned it didn’t hurt any because none of these concepts would ever become a reality.

The night felt so peaceful. There was nothing but the chirping of crickets, the glow of the moon and the occasional car passing by. Donovan glanced at his phone. 11:26 pm. He stopped abruptly on the sidewalk contemplating his next actions. Feeling his mind had finally calmed down enough, he decided to turn around, go back to his apartment and go to bed.

Donovan proceeded back down the three blocks he had walked quite frequently. He knew every detail down to the overgrown bush that grew at the property two blocks down from his apartment. His mind shifted from one random thought to the next.

Donovan paused abruptly. Just a few feet away was a strange haze. He rubbed his eyes in confusion. What was it? Was it the lighting? Fog?

Donovan blinked. It wasn’t like that anywhere else. Weird. He brushed it off as he continued on through the haze itself. It was most likely because he was tired and the stress he felt from work.

With only one remaining block to go, he would be home, but something made Donovan stop abruptly. A very sudden and displaced wave of anxiety fell over him. There was no explanation why he felt it. He stood there for what felt like an eternity. Suddenly, he had no idea where he was. He glanced in every direction desperately searching for a sign of comforting familiarity. Nothing.

Had he taken a wrong street? That didn’t make any sense. He had made no turns whatsoever, and the idea that he had walked this route often, it was highly unlikely that he would have gotten lost. Were the illusions of the night playing tricks on him? Another unlikely explanation since this wasn’t the first time that he had taken a walk around the block at night.

Okay, Donovan. Think logically.

As he took a couple of steps hoping to figure out just where he was, he noticed something very odd about the sidewalk. It wasn’t the uneven sidewalk he knew. It had a smooth lustrous look to it, and it had no cracks. He studied it. It wasn’t really cement but some aluminum like material. Was he dreaming? It was quite likely that he had fallen asleep on the couch, and this wasn’t real at all.

As dumb as he thought it sounded, he blinked slowly and deliberately then pinched his arm. If this was a dream and it most likely was, he would wake up and find himself sprawled out on the couch. He would laugh the whole ordeal off then go to bed.

Donovan had already blinked his eyes three times and pinched himself until it started to hurt. By those actions, he should have woken up.

“This is so weird,” Donovan breathed. He paused turning left then right as he focused on his surroundings, taking in every sensation.

Everything remained the same. A heightened sense of panic fell over him as he stood in the middle of the sidewalk. He came to a startling realization. This was in no possible way a dream.

He found himself jumping at every sound no matter how minuscule and jerking his attention to every unfamiliar sight.

He continued slowly down the sidewalk towards the direction where his apartment should be. His fear escalated when he saw that there was no such apartment. There was no such block and no such neighborhood. Nothing looked familiar. There was just this peculiar looking sidewalk and beyond that, a vast and orderly green area like a park.

He stepped off the sidewalk and proceeded towards the green area. There was absolutely no one around. With no idea of where to go or what to do next, he gave himself only a few seconds to observe his surroundings before he collapsed unto the grassy area. Burying his face into his hands, he thought of every possibility of what could have happened. Was this all just a hallucination? A dream? Had he lost his sanity? Exhausted by total confusion, he sprawled out onto the grass and succumbed to sleep.