The Caul

Filed under:nanofiction,writing,Rob Andrews
An anti-time diamond cuts a gash in the rainbow and a time wave breaks through. The scientists are prepared. Time drains into a four dimensional caul the size of a windmill. A signal. The diamond repairs the gash. They call in the chrononaut, a savy man culled from the prison. A lifer. He remembers everything. A five sense camera. He's going to be their chimp. They lather him up in soap and remove his hair down to the follicle. He decends into the caul and they pull him out, seconds later. The body is not the same. It's twisted by time. One arm belongs to a cadaver, a leg, an infant. He tries to speak with his malformed mouth, teeth alternating from rotting to full. Words tumble out like children down a hill. After he dies, the scientists re-play his last words over and over again. They never decipher it. The scientists leave the time pool the best they can. It waits for another man