Rape of Time

“Seizures, nausea, narcolepsy,”
warned the side-effects portion of the contract
“auditory and visual hallucinations,
delusions of grandeur, martyr complex,
vertigo, anal leakage, belief in ghosts,
reproductive urges, suicidal thoughts,
blurred vision…” tiring of the list
she rapidly perused the rest
and signed as she knew she would
as everybody would
successful return rates
were now up to 42%
bringing back a hit
meant fame and fortune
and she was ready, she felt
for whenever she plopped down
ten years of history books
paleontology journals
archeological texts
and from what she understood of the process
this time-mining business
might not have much longer to profit
the present remains, thankfully, intact and stable
but the past has gotten exceedingly fucked up
hundreds of twisting, curling, entwining lines
diverging, conjoining, commingling
an insane admixture
of possibilities thrown at the wall
and not a thing wasn’t sticking
the past was a limited resource
but for the sake of future generations
it had to be depleted and trashed
the light above the door went green
Kay pushed her way in
there was a wash of air
as the wind curtain shot a sheet downward
to keep out any would-be
time travelling flies
behind her the entrance sealed
the room was Spartan
a tablet and a pedestal and a fold-up cot
the operator worked the tablet
and the pedestal would work her
“Kay,” the operator smiled
“this way please…” Kay walked to the pedestal
and mounted it
“Um, no. The bed if you like,” he said
“I wasn’t aware of a final exam,”
Kay said.
“There isn’t. It’s just that
one of the symptoms, reproductive urges,
I understand it can be painfully acute
and coming before you go
can greatly alleviate the pressure.”
Kay’s eyes widened
she didn’t want to,
but automatically checked him out:
fit, young, coarse features
what with imagination could be called rugged
she shook her head
“There’s a line of women out there
waiting,” she said
“So? They’re going back in time
maybe now
just maybe to never come back
same goes for you
aside for pain management
I might be your last chance ever
loads of history
a lot without humanity
you’re aimed at 600 CE Arabia
making you a Muhammad hunter
is that right?”
Kay didn’t answer
“There’s been quite a number of you
and you may end up there
or not…
What do you say?
One last tumble
orgasm guaranteed
I’m very good at cunnilingus.”
“Shit on the self-assessment of your skills
and send me on my way.
Does this approach ever work?”
Kay’s fists clenched, nostrils flared
the operator
cocked his head and said
“42% of the time.”
in a frowns width of delay
Kay removed her gown,
laid back on the cot,
said, “I want at least three,”
having quickly concluded
coming was equally important
as coming back

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