Free The Egg Said Nothing by Caris O'Malley

let’s start with the time jumping thing.”

    She sounded confused. “Time jumping? Like you’re losing time?”

    “Are you a real psychic?” I asked.

    “Of course I am,” she said defensively. “You are very guarded is all. Perhaps you could give me a hint.”

    “I did,” I replied.

    “Another hint,” she said.

    “Look, future versions of me are coming into the present time and trying to convince my present self to commit both suicide and homicide. How do I get rid of them?”

    “They come from the future?” she asked. “How are they doing that?”

    “Something about matter and energy existing in multiple times and places,” I said. “New agey shit.”

    “Oh, I see. And your future self mastered this idea?”

    “I wouldn’t say mastered , but he’s got the general idea.”

    “You must destroy them before they destroy you,” she said simply.

    “Well, yeah. But that’s the problem,” I said. “I’ve killed three of them already. They just keep coming.”

    “What happens when they die?”

    “They disappear.”

    “Poof?”

    “Yep, only silently. Sans poof.”

    “Very interesting,” she said.

    “Yes, it is. Now, what do I do about it?” I demanded.

    “You must travel into the future and do battle with yourself,” she said matter-of-factly.

    “Um, yeah. I don’t know how to do that.”

    “If what you say is true, then there is some disturbance in space and time. Your future self’s knowledge should be available to you. You just need to focus and utilize it.”

    “How do I do that?” I asked, warming to the idea. Following what had already happened, it wasn’t too much of a stretch.

    “You must look inside yourself. Turn the lights off, close your eyes and visualize your future self. It will work. You must trust me,” she insisted.

    “Okay, I’ll do it.” I slammed down the phone. It was worth a shot, and I felt it was possible.

    I went back into the living room and sat down on the couch. After closing my eyes, I tried to visualize my future self: philosopher, smart guy, father. I gathered a picture and began to slide into his brain.

    I was jarred back to the present by a pounding on the door. I got up and ran over to it. “Now is really not a good time!” I shouted.

    “Open up!” a voice screamed. I looked through the peephole and saw my face staring back at me.

    “What do you want?” I asked.

    “Someone saw me,” he said.

    “So?”

    “So, we’re changing the future! We’re fucking things up, you goddamned asshole!”

    “Sounds like you’re fucking things up,” I said. “I’m just sitting in my apartment, minding my own business.”

    “Do you have any idea what potential psychological damage could come about after spending a significant amount of time with your girlfriend’s corpse?” he shouted shrilly.

    “Leave me alone.”

    He kicked the door.

    “Stop kicking the door,” I said.

    He increased the frequency and intensity of his attack. “I’m not stopping until you let me in!”

    “Alright, kick the fucking door then. I don’t give a shit.” I looked around. “I’ve got earplugs in here somewhere.”

    “I’ll go get the super!” he threatened. “He’ll let me in!”

    “You have no idea who the super is.”

    “Do, too. We learn it in 2012. May. Right after our birthday, a pipe breaks and he has to come investigate.”

    “2012?” I asked.

    “Yeah.” He stopped kicking.

    “It’s probably not the same guy,” I said.

    “It is,” he responded.

    “Okay. Go get him then.”

    He started kicking the door again.

~Chapter 12~

    In which the narrator attempts to short circuit time.

    I had no idea what to do. The creepily methodic pounding on the door was getting to me; I couldn’t think, and I had to think.

    Perhaps what I needed to do was figure out how to go back in time and stop myself from hitting Ashley in the face with a shovel. In hindsight, it seemed wise that I didn’t destroy the