I’m from the future and the past and other temporalities that you can’t comprehend. But all you need to know is that yiou must not write this Hemingway story. If you do, I or someone like me will have to kill you.
“Myself,” she said, peering up and down the busy Boston street.“It’s not a good sign. I usually come back to reassure me that we’ve succeeded. I wonder what's holding me up?”
“Maybe it’s just a delay,” the clerk suggested concerned by the look on the tall woman’s face.
“You couldn’t get back in time?”
“It’s time travel,” Julia corrected him. “There’s always time to get back where you started. ”
