Time
“Quick, what time is it?” Stan said.
“10:33,” Rick answered.
“Shoot. We’ll have to try something different. Grab that block, and smash it on my head.”
“It’ll kill you if I do that.”
“Doesn’t matter. It might be the only way out of this.”
Rick picked up the large cinder block, while Stan rested his head on the table. He raised it up high in the air, and then brought it down with enough force to crush his skull. Blood splattered some. Then everything reversed again.
“Quick, what time is it?” Stan said.
“10:33,” Rick answered.
“Shoot. We’ll have to try something different…”
If you enjoyed this story, please be sure to click the Google +1 and/or the Facebook Like button(s) below.
