“I know it’s only been three weeks…”
I said nothing when she just about whispered the words. The sentence was never finished but I knew exactly what she was thinking. It felt like three years. Three years of hell. I was never going to work out the words to say that I was sorry. My time travel experiment had worked, up to a point. We had been transported back in time to when our house had been an old factory. We found we even had the appearance of the children that once worked there. We had been so excited until we realised that we couldn’t get home.
If only I had realised that would be going to run out of fuel I would have stocked up. Naturally. My intention was never to get us both stuck here.
She gave a gasp and looked at me with excitement. “Lorne, I wonder if the material that we are producing here would work the same way as Xenar?”
“”Catherine, you are a genius!”
Of course, I was mortified I had not thought of the possibility by myself in the last three weeks. Genius was my job.
I could find myself leaving her behind.
Written for flash fiction for the purposeful practitioner