A man, waiting for a coach in Newcastle, finds himself taken through time and face to face with Saint Bede, whereupon a philosophical conversation about time and the future ensues.
—Michael Main
It must suffice then to say that, at the point where I come again into perfect possession of my consciousness, the venerable monk and I were conferring, in an easy manner, upon various points connected with his age, or with mine, and both of us having a clear understanding, and perfect recollection of the fact, that, at this same moment, he was actually living in the eighth century, and I as truly in the nineteenth; nor did this trifing difference of a thousand years or more—this break, as geologists would call it—this fault in the strata of time—perplex either of us a whit; any more than two friends are molested by the circumstance of their happening to encounter each other just as they arrive from opposite hemispheres.

Tags

(1)

Variants

(1)
  1. “An Anachronism; or, Missing One’s Coach” [writer and director unknown] writer], in The Dublin University Magazine, June 1838.
    2. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . written by unknown persons [uncredited]