Stories

The Time Machine

When I was young, I had a recurring dream.  In this dream, I was awake, but pinned to my bed.  Things in my room, walls, doors, windows, and furniture began to warp.  Things became bloated and misshapen.  A bright light about the size of a softball would appear in the doorway, traveling slowly across the ceiling, approaching my bottom bunk. Once the light reached the center of the room, it disappeared, everything returned to normal, and I was able to move again.

Night after night, I was visited by this dream.  It never scared me; I only wondered what it was all about.  

I knew it had meaning.

The last night that the dream came to me, it was the same.  I was pinned, things were distorted, and the light traveled toward my bed.  This time, the light did not go away.  I became aware of someone in the room.  

At the foot of my bed stood a tall, elderly man.

He told me not to be afraid and told me he only wanted to say hello.  He told me one more thing, “You’ll be a good man, Johnny, and have a wonderful life.

I knew he was me.

I never had the dream again.

Since then, I’ve been convinced we'd discover time travel in my lifetime.  I‘ve read lots of time travel stories and watched many time travel movies; I love a good time travel story.  Now, as my end closes in, I see it was only a dream.

I’ve often considered writing a Science Fiction Story based on my dream.

Maybe, one day soon, I’ll dream I’m back at the Wahoma House, petting Mitsy who recognizes me, entering through the normally unlocked back door, flashlight in hand.  I’ll move silently through the kitchen, take a right through the living room, step over the floor furnace, and quietly enter my room to say hello to little Johnny.

I won’t give him advice because old John didn’t in my dream.  I would want him to live his life exactly as I have lived mine.