It's a Living
4 November 2007 16:03![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
skonen_bladesIt was a hard habit to break, this whole buying and selling onself.
For one, the money was so good. For two, nothing was remembered.
Waking up two weeks older in the kind of perfect health that only temporal technology could achieve was always a little disconcerting. Being slipped back into the timestream at the moment that one of was snatched was viable but a little tricky if one was gone for weeks at a time.
They add up. Suddenly, within a year, several two-week trips become two years you’ve spent away in between the seconds. Your friends notice you going grey earlier.
No one’s every been straight up tagged as a traveler but any suspicion is bad suspicion, they say, so it’s avoided.
One needs a cover story so I’ve been given a job that makes me travel a lot. I’m a trucker. Gone for weeks a time, righ?
I get snatched, briefed, suited, injected, built up for it, snaked, and shredded until I barely resemble a human anymore. I’m sent on my mission, none of which I’m allowed to remember, and then I’m reverted back to my normal human self before being chucked back into my apartment and they press ‘play’ on my corner of the universe again.
Rumour has it that I’m quite the secret agent. I have two medals in my closet in a box that look innocuous enough. I don’t know what they’re for but they don’t hand medals out to everyone, right?
Involving myself with the temporals was easy. They came to me. They knew I’d be up for it because they were from downstream aways from a place where I’d been working for them for decades already with great success.
Hard to argue with that, right? And as it turns out, they were dead right. Ha ha.
Sometimes, I wish I knew what I was doing on those missions, though. It keeps me up some nights, to tell you the truth.
Am I causing empires to topple somewhere else in the universe? Am I changing the course of the destiny of every living thing in the known omniverse? Ah well. Sure I am. I guess, in some ways, by going to the store this morning and making the conscious choice to buy my milk from a different store than I usually go to, I’m doing the same thing.
Have I ever been sent to screw with this Earth right here? That worries me more than anything else, really. That question. Have I changed governments?
The future that hired me tells me that they’re a great place. I mean, I’m sure they’re not lying, but it seems kind of fishy, you know?
There’s a bright flash in the middle of my living room. Knock, knock.
Time for another mission. I’m told that I stop working for them in six years but that’s hard to imagine. I really feel like quitting now. I guess we’ll see how that works out.
tags
For one, the money was so good. For two, nothing was remembered.
Waking up two weeks older in the kind of perfect health that only temporal technology could achieve was always a little disconcerting. Being slipped back into the timestream at the moment that one of was snatched was viable but a little tricky if one was gone for weeks at a time.
They add up. Suddenly, within a year, several two-week trips become two years you’ve spent away in between the seconds. Your friends notice you going grey earlier.
No one’s every been straight up tagged as a traveler but any suspicion is bad suspicion, they say, so it’s avoided.
One needs a cover story so I’ve been given a job that makes me travel a lot. I’m a trucker. Gone for weeks a time, righ?
I get snatched, briefed, suited, injected, built up for it, snaked, and shredded until I barely resemble a human anymore. I’m sent on my mission, none of which I’m allowed to remember, and then I’m reverted back to my normal human self before being chucked back into my apartment and they press ‘play’ on my corner of the universe again.
Rumour has it that I’m quite the secret agent. I have two medals in my closet in a box that look innocuous enough. I don’t know what they’re for but they don’t hand medals out to everyone, right?
Involving myself with the temporals was easy. They came to me. They knew I’d be up for it because they were from downstream aways from a place where I’d been working for them for decades already with great success.
Hard to argue with that, right? And as it turns out, they were dead right. Ha ha.
Sometimes, I wish I knew what I was doing on those missions, though. It keeps me up some nights, to tell you the truth.
Am I causing empires to topple somewhere else in the universe? Am I changing the course of the destiny of every living thing in the known omniverse? Ah well. Sure I am. I guess, in some ways, by going to the store this morning and making the conscious choice to buy my milk from a different store than I usually go to, I’m doing the same thing.
Have I ever been sent to screw with this Earth right here? That worries me more than anything else, really. That question. Have I changed governments?
The future that hired me tells me that they’re a great place. I mean, I’m sure they’re not lying, but it seems kind of fishy, you know?
There’s a bright flash in the middle of my living room. Knock, knock.
Time for another mission. I’m told that I stop working for them in six years but that’s hard to imagine. I really feel like quitting now. I guess we’ll see how that works out.
tags
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Date: 15 Nov 2007 08:52 (UTC)