Time Of Your Life

1st in the 'Imagine That! 1999' competition

Assembly Square, New Delhi, April 17, 2104, 2:42pm

President Archibald D. Wilberforce smiles out at the crowd for a second, loathing them completely. He flashes a boyish grin for the cameras, and holds out his hand to stop the cheering. Naturally it doesn’t stop them, but that is planned. ‘Ladies, Gentleman, people of non specific gender and those who refuse to be classified.’ Pause. ‘Over the past fifty years, we have seen many new technological advances.’ Applause. ‘Particularly, since the signing of the 2050 technology research agreement, we have had to deal with the problem of time travel.’ They know what is coming, but he pauses for a second, before continuing. ‘Since its invention, we have had our reality changed numerous times by irresponsible ventures into the past. Even now we are as yet unsure what our originaly reality was like, but you may be sure it has been altered in more ways thatn we can imagine.’ For some reason, the public loves this, the stating of the obvious. ‘That is why I have great pleasure in announcing that today, in this building behind us.’ He spares the New United World Headquarters on casual flick of his fingers. ‘I have signed, with all the leaders of the world, an accord.’ Applause. ‘And this accord, has guaranteed, that our lives will no longer be ended and replaced with divergent timelines, because on this day, of April 17, 2104.’ Dramatic pause. ‘We have made time travel illegal!’ Applause. ‘We have made it an offense to prossess or use a device capable of time travel, and the law will treat any irresponsible individuals who would persist in such misguided actions most severely!’ He lets just the right note of anger creep into his voice. ‘No longer will we tolerate such callous behavior!’ Amidst the roaring applause, President Wilberforce walks of the stage, into the waiting road transport.

‘Reasonable.’ His aide says. ‘What was the opinion poll percentage increase?’ Archibald D. Wilberforce loosens his suit. ‘Seven point six.’ ‘Damn. We still need a percent more to be certain of winning the election.’ ‘Okay. We’ll go back seven seconds this time.’ ‘Last time it was six.’ ‘I think we should have you smile more at the start, perhaps another second will do.’ ‘Anything else?’ ‘I think you should have a beige tie.’ ‘Beige?’ ‘Yes. The informal look. Relaxed and just a little casual.’ ‘You know best.’ ‘Exactly sir.’ The aide smiles thinly.

‘Okay.’ He sighs wearily, and the aide activates the time travel control panel. The entire transport disappears out of that time.

Assembly Square, New Delhi, April 17, 2104, 2:42pm

President Archibald D. Wilberforce smiles out at the crowd for a second, loathing them completely. He flashes a boyish grin for the cameras, and holds out his hands to stop the cheering. Naturally it doesn’t stop them, but hat was planned. ‘Ladies, Gentleman.....’

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