The Observer
He became what he found.
What we find may cost much more than we know.
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It was another evening of no social calls or friends for Albert Monterio ā the introverted historian genuinely preferred archiving subjects for historical research.
Everyone had gone home to their families for the evening ā all but him.
The archives were empty -- and profoundly silent.
Too silent.
He combed the stoically silent shelves.
In the strange quiet there was a stack of photographs from the 1946 bombardment of Haiphong.
One photograph stood out.
A photo that disobeyed its own era.
An anomaly hiding among sepia images.
And a strange rustling that he shouldn't have felt.
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Albert grabbed a magnifying glass and focused on the odd,
out-of-place mark.
Everything was in ruins.
Pieces of zinc roofing were scattered on the pavements.
Smoke billowed from surrounding debris.
Two soldiers lifted a seriously wounded comrade who was attempting to walk.
Amid it all stood a child, grasping an object that was out of place for its time -- a modern smartphone.
Albert shook his head.
Probably some debris the kid picked up, he thought.
But the anomaly only sharpened --
on Logic's defying path.
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A second envelope fell from the archive bookshelf.
A similar photograph.
With him, fully present, in the frame.
The child's device showed a timestamp -- the present day's date.
The photo shimmered, and tiny sketches appeared at the corners.
A temple he was familiar with -- bombed.
A street, newly built, shattering in pieces.
Smoke billowing from the debris.
The young boy showed disaster.
Showed change.
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And true to that, the photograph --
Changed.
The child's gaze had shifted --
Through the screen.
Ever so slightly, staring Albert in the face.
And then --
His outline materialising where it should not have been.
Standing, motionless, beside the child's.
With tomorrow's date flashing on the screen's right.
Albert hadn't been merely observing history -- he had become it.
š°ļøšš
The child's device showed a timestamp -- today's date.
The time -- a minute into the future.
Albert lying slumped in his chair in the archive.
A smile etched on his face.
He had found what he had to.
And become what he had found.
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Original story by Michelle Liew Tsui-Lin. AI tags are coincidental.
In honour of the Battle of Haiphong which happened this day in 1946.
For Mikeydred's November Challenge
About the Creator
Michelle Liew Tsui-Lin
Hi, i am an English Language teacher cum freelance writer with a taste for pets, prose and poetry. When I'm not writing my heart out, I'm playing with my three dogs, Zorra, Cloudy and Snowball.
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