Imagine an intersection. That’s a good metaphor. Or as good as we’ll get.

Only the roads aren’t roads. Not as you think of them. They’re… Well, you don’t have the words for them. Not yet. Roads through time and space. Handy for when you have to be somewhere last Tuesday.

They intersect with your world. Your time. Your roads. Slipping between the empty places and empty seconds.

Sometimes, the intersection is a little… rougher than we might hope for.

Which, really, is just a long-winded way of saying: No, you can’t have my insurance information. Not for another thousand years.

Word Count: 100

This is for Friday Fictioneers. Thanks to Rochelle Wisoff-Fields for running the challenge and Na’ama Yehuda for providing the prompt photo! You can find the other stories here.

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