She's A Liquid

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Before Departure

Swallowing blood, she slumped into her office chair. She contemplated morphine, contemplated A&E.

Instead she put the neural helmet on, resuming work.

She was exhausted. She counted the years since his death. She had worked on this obsessively. Every time it failed, she reminded herself that his life depended on it. Her life depended on it. But this obsession was only delaying the inevitable. She couldn’t live without him, and time travel was a dream.

Forever delayed, she wondered why the seconds didn’t fold.

She turned up the music, listening to the song they had listened to all those years ago. Her blood fell, an incessant beat. The music responded, notes dripping in perfect time. The rhythm was hypnotic, a metallic clink as the blood hit her hands.

The computer responded as the neural helmet picked up her brain’s electromagnetic fields. Adjusting the settings of her experiment, she set the program running and waited.

The rhythm shifted, broken up by syncopation, a doubling of speed. The notes fell with her blood in a disjointed collage. Time contracted.

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