A Normal Letter - March 1, 2011

Mr. Charles, 146 Deston
Route three, room 423
Senton Arkansas.
The return address was dirty and impossible to read.  Except for that, there was only one abnormality about it: it was sent in 1013 A.D and was asking for troops to help them win the Byzantium empire back.

    Mr. Charles was a ex-military commander, he controlled troops for the Vietnam war.  Of course, now he was in his in his 70’s and could barely move himself, much less other troops around.  The letter went like this: Dear Mr. Charles, this must be a surprise to you, getting a letter like this, but just read the letter.  The Byzantium Empire is falling.  There is nothing we can do at this time period.  Our supply of Greek Fire is extremely low, our soldiers are all extremely tired.  Almost all of our warships are broken or in bad repair.  The Ottoman are about to overthrow us, we know this for a fact, since you told us, don’t stop reading, you’ll figure it out.

    Of course, I stopped reading right then and was about to rip it up thinking that somebody has pranked me until I decided that I should just test the paper to see how old it is.  I knew that I should just rip it up, but something kept me from doing that, a feeling, like I should just test it.  Normally it would be costly to do something like this, but I learned how to test dirt in the military, and on the return address had plenty of dirt on it.

    When I was finished, I found out that the dirt was at least 800 years old.  There was barely any chance of a coincidence, since most of this kind of dirt burned in about 100 years at most usually.  I read the rest of it: thank you for not stop reading this.  As I was saying, you told this us yourself.  You will go back in time, but not yet.  For a second. I didn’t know what to call going back in time in the future, ironic?  Like back to the future.  Or future you go back.  When you stop reading this, there will be a big box delivered to your door.  Don’t press any of the buttons inside, but the big red one.  Of course, the big red button.  Some people will be accompanying you, your old unit in the army.  They will be armed.  I have sent this letter to your team.  When you press the button, you will be young again and back in the time with us.

    As I finished reading, the doorbell rang.

-Fred Hanlon