You stared down at the crisp twenty-dollar bill. It was the nicest one you’d ever seen, and you’d seen plenty of them in your time on this earth. Why, just looking at this one, you could remember them all.

“What the fuck is a ‘temporal paradox’?”
You remembered asking that question of your friend at a garage sale years ago. Now, you had nothing. Nothing, in a time when you didn’t even exist. You had no parents, no way to get back home. You had lost your friend somewhere in the jump, and now you were all alone.

This storm is the worst you’ve seen in quite a while. The rain is hammering against windows and shingles alike, pelting an uncertain rhythm out. Thunder crashes every few moments, echoing across the land like the bestial roars of some distant animal. Wind howls, rattling your doors and causing your house to tremble somewhat.

You stared at your partner, unsure of how to feel. Your entire life, you’d built yourself up into the perfect human being. At the behest of your mother, you’d strived for excellence in everything. You never settled for anything less than perfection, and you didn’t know how to.

It was a normal day in the forge. Cold weather was kept at bay by the fires that enabled your work, the constant working of your muscles held off the shivers, and the handling of enchantments kept your mind working through the fog.

There’s that saying about a city needing one hero but deserving another. He’d always thought it was a load of garbage put in a superhero movie just because it sounded cool.

It was another day like any other. Work at a fox sanctuary wasn’t glamorous, with its moments of both unbounded joy and stifling disgust, though it all averaged out to be pretty fun, regardless.

It was that time of year again. You could smell it on the wind. The leaves were falling, and the air was cooling; some animals were preparing to hibernate, and others were preparing to procreate.

It should’ve been another normal visit to the bank. Everything until now had been going great. You’d started the day off early, with a nice breakfast cooked by the love of your life.

The shapeshifter didn’t want to believe it at first. They had always prided themselves on their beauty, taking whatever form was most pleasant for the current era of humanity. Male or female, it didn’t matter. All that mattered was keeping their secret, for they knew that the humans would reject them if the truth were revealed.

It should’ve been a simple task. All Godisu had been tasked with was keeping an eye on the refrigeration unit. That was fancy talk that the higher-ups used. Godisu never understood it, though. Why would a distant, almost frigid patch of the galaxy be considered a refrigeration unit?

“Burn the witch!”

A cacophony of voices echoed through the town, chanting bloodthirsty encouragements for the witch’s demise. The witch herself, a young woman with a flowing river of dark hair and pale skin, was tugged along by two large knights. They cared not for any discomfort they brought her, whether by their rough handling or the chains around her wrists.

You were known across the lands far and wide. Your willingness to do anything with no questions asked put you in a questionable position with many people, but your skills couldn’t be denied. Neither man nor otherworldly beast could overcome your might. The greatest warrior in the lands, you were never wanting for money or food.

James was a quiet man. His whole life, he’d sought peace, not violence. He’d worked toward establishing friendships rather than creating enemies. In his humble little village, it was easy to live his life. There was no conflict to be had, whether on the dirt roads or within his own four walls.

William had been in this situation before, though it still hurt to see such a beautiful home torn down, for no purpose other than the expansion of the city.

The house was among the oldest in the city, built when the streets were little more than dirt and the hopes of a bright future remained in everyone’s minds. It was grand, large enough to house a family of ten with room to spare and surrounded by high brick walls.

She could feel her strength fading, thin rivulets of crimson seeping free of the wound in her abdomen. Her clothes grew sticky and sodden with the essence that had once brought her life.

We sent messages to the stars, in hopes of meeting others like us. Pictures which showed our world, sounds of children playing and animals calling to one another, videos of people celebrating and talking and having fun. We included maps that we figured any intelligent species would understand, and which they could use to find us.

Life as an immortal wasn’t too terrible. It had its raw moments, such as the constant pestering from villagers that my mere existence was a blasphemy to their god, but otherwise, it was a fine jaunt through history.

No one knew where it had come from. It had stood at the edge of the city for ages, to the point some sources even believed it had existed before the city. Though, of course, there was no way to be certain.