“Oh no! It’s the twenty-fourth today right?” a suddenly tensed Flynn asked.
“What else, silly?” was the reply he got.
“Which means to say tomorrow is the submission for the Grand Story competition. Oh no this can’t be possible!”
Sunday evening – the most unique phases of everyday life. The time when happiness and despair overlap. Happy, with the fact that it’s a time to relax and sad, because the weekend is almost coming to an end. For most of the school-going children, it was a common affair. Friday evening their minds would hibernate, or switch to chill-out mode, only to wake up at Sunday evening just to remember that they had a whole pile of assignments to complete for next morning. Our superhero Flynn Thomson was no exception.
The Grand Story Competition was one of the most prestigious contests that any writer of the 22nd century aspired to take part in. It was a competition in which thousands of blossoming writers participate in a battle of words fought with stories instead of swords. The winner would be bestowed with a whooping cash price of $10000 and a free tablet.
Flynn was dejected. He had high hopes and ambitions to win the race. He felt he had the potential to stand out among his fellow writers. But now, he could see that elevated aim wither away.
“How could I have wasted all my time like this? How did that one whole fortnight vanish into thin air?” an exasperated Flynn said.
It was already 6:00 P.M. He usually went to bed at before 10:00. And his story-writing process was a lengthy one. First, he would think up of a convincing plot. Indeed, that is not an easy, rudimentary job. It was a time consuming process. Even if he could come up with one within a jiffy, he would then write down a draft of the story, followed by textual enhancements. Then, he would edit the story and check for grammar. Only then did he feel that his story would be complete.
Flynn did some quick calculations. If he could start immediately and come up with a plot, let alone worthwhile or presentable, and work on his editing and enrichments, even if it took away his sleep, he wouldn’t be able to complete his story to a satisfactory extent.
He sat their weeping. What in the world could he do? He had made many mistakes in life. But he had never seen his dream shatter into pieces like this right before his eyes, ever before. An hour passed by and Flynn wasted this by regretting about his past. That was when a wonderful notion flashed!
Flynn thought, “If I don’t complete it today, then Flynn of tomorrow wouldn’t have submitted a story and he would be heartbroken. If that was the case, then…” A cunning idea began to take shape. He decided that he would use the time machine (which was invented by then) to go have a talk with future himself. He wanted to take the help of himself to come up with the most unique, the most out-of-the-world story anyone had seen so far.
A wry grin appeared on Flynn’s face. He hurried to the attic and called out to the time machine, which would activate only on voice recognition.
“Voice Identified. Master Flynn Thomson. Please enter the time and location of the destination in the dial below. I will take you there as soon as possible. Please don’t forget to wear the Time Shield as I’m going to whizz past faster than light” the electronic voice of the time machine beeped out.
Flynn typed the time and the address of the destination and sat in the time machine. “Tomorrowland here I come!”
*****
Flynn landed on a huge thud on something very hard.
“Ouch!” a sleepy Flynn groaned. Flynn of the future was apparently in a deep slumber only to find himself waken up by an irritating himself!
“What do you want, Mr. Past?” asked the irate Flynn of the future.
“Well, how did you feel today when you went empty handed to school. You did not write a story did you?” asked Flynn of the past.
“Oh, don’t you remind me of that! I agree it was the worst mistake of our lives. I felt pretty much the same how I felt yesterday…I mean….how you feel right now, except the desolation has doubled.
“Hmm…” thought Flynn of the past. “Well do you want to brighten up your mood?” he asked his future self.
“Well there’s nothing that can be done now. No matter how hard you try, I will not come out of this misery. It feels so bad, I’m burning from the inside. How in the world can you help me get out of this melancholy?” Flynn Future asked his past.
“I can change my future. With a help of a future help!” Flynn Past said. His eyes gleamed with wonder and excitement.
“I didn’t get you…You mean you’re going to change the future of Flynn? But how?” asked Flynn of the Future.
Flynn of the Past continued, “Why don’t we both sit together and think of the most swashbuckling plot that the whole world has ever witnessed. I mean, you know that you are a commendable virtuoso don’t you? And that means to say I am a mastermind. You can see what I mean don’t you?”
“Oh now I get it. Two geniuses together can come up with a magnificent story that can captivate even the greatest of the criticizers. After all, we both are the same, aren’t we?” said the delighted Flynn (of the future).
“Let’s get started right away!” said Flynn of the past, elated with the success of convincing himself (his future-self) into helping him.
The two sat in their room, thinking for hours about a wonderful plot for their story. Both of them put together a great deal of effort and both came up with revolutionary ideas. Each of them pointed out flaws in all their plots and each of them appreciated some ideas. It seemed that one was the best criticizer of oneself. Finally after thorough discussions, debates that blew the house, editing and enhancing, the two came up with a highly convincing story, although Flynn of the future played a more major role in the creation.
The Flynn(s) read it with immense awe. After a final touch-up, they closed their story and wrote it down on sheets of paper, which they filed in an elegant blue stick-file.
“Thanks a ton, my dear self. It wouldn’t have been possible without you!” Flynn of today said to Flynn of Tomorrow.
“Why thank me? Isn’t it you who helped yourself? After all, I’m just you in the future. We are loaded with absolute similarities and no differences at all. Anyways, thanks for visiting me. You have given me a good solace. Now I can sleep peacefully knowing that I have submitted a wonderful story for the Grand Story Competition. Goodbye and hope you have a brilliant future! Because only then will I be happy!” said the future Flynn.
Both the Flynns bade goodbye. Flynn was ecstatic. All his distress drained out. His future self-had brought in a rekindled hope to lift up his numb spirits. He went back to his time with a relieved feeling. Flynn scooped the papers into his bag and slept a sound night.
*****
“Flynn Thomson, I believe you have brought in a story for the Grand Story Competition, haven’t you?” his teacher asked next morning.
“Yes indeed”, he replied.
" I have been anticipating an excellent story from you, Flynn. It's just nice to read your stories!" she said.
He took out a transparent stick file that contained his papers and walked majestically to his teacher, generating an energized air of dominance. He quickly skimmed through the pages to give a last glance at his story. And he gave out a deafening shriek!
All he had in his hand was a blue stick-file that contained blank sheets with absolutely nothing in it at all! It seemed as if the text had withered away, erasing each and everything that was written on it.
*****
EPILOGUE
What actually happened was the result of something I refer to as “Time Paradox”. Flynn of the present had not written a story and could not submit anything the next day. Hence, as you could see, Flynn of the Future was feeling low because he did not have anything to submit. But later, Flynn of the present goes to the future and takes the help of Flynn of that time (future) to come up with a story. But if that was the case, then Flynn of the present would have submitted a story and would have changed his future. And if his future would change, then would Flynn (the one who helped present Flynn) even exist? I leave it to you to ponder about this. Till then, so long fellows!
