All's Well That Ends Well

He was already staring at me out of the little window in his time machine when I entered the room. Smug Bastard

            “I knew I’d run into you here,” he said, a coy smile hugging his face. “Surprised to see me?”

            I was surprised, though I don’t know who wouldn’t be when a trip to the bathroom puts them face to face with a thirty five year older version of themselves.

            “Well,” he prodded. “I’m doing all the talking so far, what’ve you got to say for ourselves?”

            I’m such a dick sometimes.

            “I always though that the concept of time travel was a bit dumb,” I said, nonplussed.

            “Agreed. At this point it’s pretty hackneyed, not to mention the plethora of plot holes to twist an ankle in.”

            We both looked around awkwardly, neither of us really knowing what to say.

            “Well, don’t you have any questions about your future?” he added. “I know times are pretty tough right now, surely you want to know how it all ends up.”

            I shrugged.

“Sure, I’ll humor you. Where is all of this leading me?”

            “Well, for one you got published, several times actually. You’re somewhat of a financially solvent writer now, living mostly off of royalties and the occasional article, interview, compilation contribution or lecture. You met a beautiful brunette and you’re each others world. House, picket fence, the works. No kids though, you were kind of stubborn about it. It was one hell of a rough patch but the two of you worked through it.”

            He smiled reassuringly at me.

            “Ya’ll got a pair of dogs though. Despite all of the mundane terrors of growing up you still maintained contact with your close friends and you still see them weekly, Saturday lunch is kind of a thing. You’ve got a career that’s also your passion, a wife you love and good friends. All in all I’d say that things turned out pretty well.”

            “Good to know everything ended happily.” I responded, smiling as I pressed the barrel harder against my temple and applied light finger pressure to the trigger.

The smell of salt peter filled my nose and the force of the hammer rattled my teeth.

           All’s well that ends well.