The Block
Dials set. Machine engaged. Time set to: Ancient Mesopotamia.
I had nearly finished fiddling with the time machine when the lab door burst violently open. In stormed the greatest genius of our generation, aka my little sister, holding a set of bolt cutters and breathing heavily.
”Oh, I see you made it.” I said.
”What the hell are you doing? You chain me up in my room like some animal, set traps along the hallway and lock me out of my own lab! I should have you arrested!”
“It wasn’t personal,” I explained, “I just needed you out of the way so you wouldn’t interfere with my plan.”
My sister was a neat shade of red. She was so easy to rile up it almost took the fun out of it.
”And what plan is that?” She asked.
I smiled. “It’s a secret.”
I fiddled with another dial and she pounced. One moment I was standing in front of the time machine, and the next I was being pummelled to the ground. My sweet sister landed on top of, giving my stomach a jab with her elbow in the process. Any air I had in my lungs escaped with a whoosh.
“How many times have I told you not to touch my time machine?” She screamed at me.
”A few,” I gasped out. I struggled to push her off but dear little sister was built like a tree.
“A few too many,“ she snarled. “This is a top secret project. Do you know what would happen if anyone found out that you had been messing with it? We’d both ‘disappear’ very quickly, and thats if we’re lucky.”
”…Can’t…breathe….“ I gasped.
Lil’ sis kindly removed herself from my person. Finally able to breathe and sit up again, I rubbed the back of my throbbing head. That one was going to hurt for a while.
”Shouldn’t given the family a tour of your lab, then,” I muttered.
She blushed. It had been unprofessional for a government employed genius to show off her top secret, world changing time machine project, but she was still an eager seventeen year old girl.
My sister set to inspecting her time machine, no doubt to make sure I hadn’t destroyed anything. She paused when she read the screen displaying my intended destination.
”Mesopotamia? Why do you want to go there?”
I stood up and patted myself off. “To see the sights of course. Who wouldn’t want to see the wonders of such a groundbreaking civilization?”
She frowned. ”Name one ’sight’ from that period.”
“Well, there is that place… with all the plants that is, some kind of garden… the Garden of Eden! Yes, I was going to see the Garden of Eden.”
Her eye twitched. I wondered if she was trying to piece together how stupid I was. I hoped so.
“Tell me the real reason, or I’ll tell Mom about your little…collection.”
My heart stopped. “You wouldn’t!”
”Try me!” She shouted back. She cackled with laughter. “Tell my the truth or your dirty little secret gets exposed!”
”Fine, I’ll tell you,“ I said, no longer smiling. Little brat wasn’t just a genius, but also a rotten snoop.
“The truth is, I was having hard time with my novel. I’ve reached a bit of a roadblock, you see, a ’writer’s block’ as we call it in the industry.”
My little sister rolled her eyes
”I had no idea where to go next,” I continued,” and then it hit me! No, not inspiration. An idea. A brilliant idea. A way to make all blocks dissolve before me.”
She yawned. “So you were going to go back in time to find inspiration?”
I chuckled. “Oh no, not for inspiration. See, the problem with writer’s block is a systematic one. It’s only a symptom of a greater problem. And how do you cure the symptoms? You target the disease of course! Don’t you see? The disease is writing itself! All I have to do is go back in time to where writing began and destroy all traces of it before it can spread.”
I cackled, “It’s perfect! I can single-handedly save all writer’s from suffering so terribly. I’ll be a hero!”
It was silent for a moment. Then she removed one of the slippers from her feet and threw it at me, landing squarely on my face and making a bruise on the front to match the one on the back.
”Get out!”