Time to Download an App

The clock still read 5:45, I hadn’t gone anywhere. Dawn had just begun to burn through the night sky and evaporate the morning mist and melt the frosty grass. Ghostly fingers from the tree branches were disappearing and pulling back from their grasp of the night. The branch's grip was fading as fast as the sun rose.

I was still in my bed, sheets, and blankets pulled up to my face and my head buried in the pillow. I could feel the day heating up inside me as I plotted my moves from under the covers to the floor. My warm feet under the flannel sheets would be chilled by the braided rag rug on my floor. The windows were sweating from the warm dew of my breath as I gazed out the window which was still chilled by the night air. The furnace had kicked on earlier but it had not warmed the room enough to prevent my breath my becoming little clouds.

My hands left finger smeared in an arch as I wiped away the dew and saw that my dad’s car was still parked next to mine, he hadn’t left yet. I had gone back in time, but how far?

Before I went to bed, the Back-Time app. I had downloaded it as a gag let me set it to send me back to one day before he died, yesterday morning. Now here I was. Was it only one day before? I looked on my phone and looked for the app, but it wasn’t there, I hadn’t downloaded it yet. But I had gone back in time at least one day which was one day before I had even looked for it.

Coffee was brewing and the cupboard door was opened and closed with the clinking of cups. A gentle tap of ceramic on the counter and the glug, glug, glug of coffee pouring into a mug. I could almost make out the gentle blowing and sipping of hot black coffee.

I tossed on a t-shirt and kicked on my slippers and rushed down the hallway. By the time I had gotten to the top of the stairs, he had already opened the door to the garage and pushed the automatic opener. The big double door moaned open as each hinge creaked and the motor purred pulling the chain attached to the top.

His head spun around and he raised his mug as he said goodbye, stepping out and pulling the heavy wood door behind him letting the door knocker bang as it trembled when closed. I could see him, out the side window, walking out to his car and brushing off the melted dew with his sleeve.

I bolted to the front door and pulled it open only to see him drive away again. A sinking feeling came over me as a tidal wave of emotion and I collapsed to the floor. I could remember when I heard he had died, the way the officer coldly and bluntly said he had not survived the crash. In my memory, the grey uniform and blue tie and gold tie clasp with the gold name badge, all arranged around the state trooper badge. His face was blank to me in the shadow his cap threw over his face, a veil to hide his emotionless gaze into my stoic hysterics.

Now I knew he was going to die again, but this time I had to wait to hear it because I knew it had already was going to happen. I hadn’t hugged him again, it wasn’t important. Now I wasn’t going to hug him again forever.

I had poured myself a cup of coffee by now and was just waiting for the state patrol car to pull into my driveway, this time I would see them come up to the front door. Would I get his name this time?