Today would be the last day in his dorm room. He had finished packing his stuff and would be leaving behind a bunch of old clothes that he wouldn’t find a use for. He double-checked to see if he was carrying his lucky shoelaces, the ones that earned him his nickname through college. He would have walked right into the course of a car and had tripped over the laces and fell down. It was a brush with death, but ever since then, life had turned out to be just like his nickname: Perfect. His photographic memory brought back traumatic moments from the past when he should have simply died but survived solely due to his perfect luck.
Something pulled him back to the moment. It was an unnerving feeling like the calm before the storm. His confusion was replaced by disbelief as he saw himself walk in.
“So, it’s time eh?,” the other Perfect asked.
“Time for what?” Perfect countered, looking around as if expecting a prank. “And who are you?”
“I’m you, but from the future. I’ve been looking over you. Every time you had a lucky moment, that was me saving our skin. Now, it’s time. You need to go back in time and start saving our past.”
He continued speaking of events and incidents that only the Present-Perfect knew, and he realised that this was his future self, Future-Perfect. That didn’t mean he didn’t have more questions.
“Does this mean I can help me…eh…us with better luck?”
“We can only do what already has been done. Our photographic memory and time-travelling abilities are no coincidence. I…We were given these powers for specific purposes. This is the trial run. The actual time travel to save the world will happen soon.”
“You’ve done it once, you can do it again.”
“I remember this conversation, except I was standing there. Four years ago when I was about to graduate, my future came and sent me back. It’s time that I passed the baton on to you, whether you like it or not.”
Future Perfect hit a button on his watch and Present Perfect fell into a portal that took Present-Perfect into the past.
“Remember to come back to this room four years later so that you can close the loop. Your past self should be kicked into the portal too. We tend to be quite stubborn.”
He knocked the nearest bundle of clothes inside the portal and threw in his watch. As if on cue, the portal closed.
Future-Perfect, tensed for a moment before looking out of the window.
“All will be well.”
Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers Week (May 08, 2018 – May 14, 2018) – 393 words (well off the limit of 150ish words, but I hope the plot makes up for it).
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