The Complete Guide for Dummies

An acid-green light darted across the sky. But the man was too happy to be bothered by the bizarre occurrence.

He listened as the crow's caw beckoned the sun's descent behind the horizon. Brilliant hues of red and orange engulfed his eyes. The man was on his way home after finally having finished his contract with the engineering company. He approached his house leisurely. Even the scent of his neighbor's marigold flowers no longer repelled him. But as the man came closer to his door, he noticed a package wrapped in brown paper on the front porch. He was not expecting a package, and immediately his eyebrows clenched in curiosity. It had no label, it wasn't addressed to or from anyone. Nothing.

The man marched inside and into the kitchen, placing the package on the counter. He felt compelled to tear it open and yet hesitated when he discerned something familiar about the brown wrapping paper. But he didn't know what. This only heightened his interest, and he ripped the package apart as if he were an excited child on Christmas Day. Inside was a book, vivid white and bound in unusual material.

The Complete Guide to Building a Time Machine for Dummies

The man was uncomfortably puzzled. As he turned to a random page, he observed a faint coffee stain in one of the corners. But the book didn't smell of coffee, rather it emanated with something that reminded the man of the mysterious wistfulness of his mother's nostalgia shop. Infused with the passage of time. He began reading and was overcome by its complexity and detail.

"...a particle accelerator propels protons at the speed of light, so ensure this component is covered by exactly 2.3 feet of copper to withstand the voltage of the anode..."

The man's attempt to find the author of the book was futile. So he flicked through the rest of the pages until he was convinced its claim was serious. He paused. He felt an uneasiness in his stomach and sat down awkwardly. Who sent him the book? Why?

That night, the man sat on his front porch and allowed the warm summer air to enter his lungs and soothe his agitation. But the pungent scent of his neighbor's marigolds was picked up by a gust of wind and urged him to head back inside. He realized the only way to clear his troubled mind was to build the time machine. He turned to the first page of the book and began reading.

Three months later.

It was done. His savings were gone, and yet he laughed triumphantly at the sight of the monstrous machine. It stood in stark contrast to the rest of his garage with its sunken shelves laden with childhood memorabilia. From the front of the machine he could see a circle illuminated by six silver canisters along its edge. Each canister had pointed rods which reminded the man of a star. The body of the machine was a hexagonal prism that extended a metre in length. Inside, an intricate maze of wires and circuit boards, masked by a thick sheet of copper. An old aircraft canopy made from tempered glass sat atop the machine with just enough space for a person.

He was ready. He propelled himself into the machine and configured the dial. 27 November 2025 - the day the package arrived. At last he could discover who delivered the book. Adrenaline coursed through his veins. The hairs on his arm erected as if to alarm him of a coming danger. He had played this moment over in his head countless times, but it was not as the man had imagined. He recalled nights spent hunched over his computer, suspended in its lucid light, researching time travel theories and watching Back to the Future. At the time he felt only giddy excitement at the chance to travel through time. But a small part of him never believed it would actually happen.

Now, as he stared at the dial, for the first time the man seriously considered what he was about to do. The mysterious book explained how to build a time machine, but it didn't mention how to time travel. A pit formed in his stomach when he remembered the theory that said if he changed anything in the past, it could have a ripple effect that might shred reality. But recollecting his desire to find the culprit behind the package, the man pushed the button swiftly.

An acid-green light radiated from the machine. In an instant his body thrusted backwards like the sharp descent at the end of a roller coaster. His surroundings vanished, replaced by an assortment of colours that reminded him of the brilliant hues that filled the sky on his last day of work. He stopped suddenly. He felt a ringing in his ears that gave up only when the green light pulsating from the machine dissipated.

Finally he was aware of his surroundings and immediately recognized the garage. It was in utter disarray and the man didn't know if the machine had worked. He frantically jumped out, determined to find a clue. He unearthed the calendar. 27 November 2025. It worked. As he jumped in joy he caught a glimpse of the clock on the wall. 5pm. The man would be home in under an hour and the machine's entry had turned the floor into a sea of clutter. Anxious at the thought of shredding reality apart, he resolved to clear the mess.

But first he unlatched the garage door. He peered shyly over the wall of his front porch but saw no sign of the package. The man decided he would leave the door open so he could clean the floor and still watch for the stranger who gave him the book. He scrambled. Eager not to miss the mysterious delivery, he finished with time to spare.

As he was about to walk out he noticed a forgotten item hidden in the corner. The man knelt to the ground and hesitated as he picked up a roll of brown wrapping paper. He caught his breath. He knew what he was supposed to do. The realization washed over him orgastically. A tear fell onto the book before he shrouded it in brown paper. He wasn't sure why. Most likely it was because of the existential time paradox he had created. He dragged his feet outside. His neighbor's marigolds once again repelled him.

He went to the front porch and dropped the brown paper package at the door.