Sentence The Onehundredandfiftyfourth
And that was when the other idea, so quixotically, fantastically, impossibly idiotic – the one that had zipped through her mind and been quickly scoffed at and ignominiously kicked into touch – resurrected itself: this could be The Future, that's more likely, and she remembered Woody Allen's Sleeper; might she have been cryogenically frozen and stored for hundreds, perhaps thousands of years (stick as many ampersands between the zeroes as you like, her mind couldn't compute anything), only to wake up now, completely disorientated and lacking any memory of the injury which had probably been the reason for putting her into a medically induced coma; anything could have happened while she slept and that would explain why everything looks the same, only different, because it is the same, only different – the buildings and bridges and roads have gone, succumbed to natural forces of weather and decay, maybe accelerated by some kind of disaster, something cataclysmic which is why the people who are here have no technology and are reduced to ancient ways of living; this made much more sense to her than being jerked back into the past and passing through some interstice caused by folds in the weft of the space/time continuum– no, now she thought about it, her new idea made much more sense; she had read somewhere that Time Travel (Forwards) is what we do all the time, and it can seem quickened by sleep, a coma, or cryogenic stasis; yes, she was certain, it explained everything neatly, but also caused her a bitter wave of grief, a fucking tsunami, for all her friends would be long gone and forgotten, and she turned to Emm who was still at her side, and she threw herself into Emm's arms, weeping and sobbing as all the confusion
of recent events poured out of her and she broke down, with an afebrile convulsion - simply unable to cope on any level with what had been forced upon her: mentally, emotionally and physically, and her wail echoed around the valley, and Emm held her tight and safe and whispered in her ear, “all will be well, all will be well.”
And that was when the other idea, so quixotically, fantastically, impossibly idiotic – the one that had zipped through her mind and been quickly scoffed at and ignominiously kicked into touch – resurrected itself: this could be The Future, that's more likely, and she remembered Woody Allen's Sleeper; might she have been cryogenically frozen and stored for hundreds, perhaps thousands of years (stick as many ampersands between the zeroes as you like, her mind couldn't compute anything), only to wake up now, completely disorientated and lacking any memory of the injury which had probably been the reason for putting her into a medically induced coma; anything could have happened while she slept and that would explain why everything looks the same, only different, because it is the same, only different – the buildings and bridges and roads have gone, succumbed to natural forces of weather and decay, maybe accelerated by some kind of disaster, something cataclysmic which is why the people who are here have no technology and are reduced to ancient ways of living; this made much more sense to her than being jerked back into the past and passing through some interstice caused by folds in the weft of the space/time continuum– no, now she thought about it, her new idea made much more sense; she had read somewhere that Time Travel (Forwards) is what we do all the time, and it can seem quickened by sleep, a coma, or cryogenic stasis; yes, she was certain, it explained everything neatly, but also caused her a bitter wave of grief, a fucking tsunami, for all her friends would be long gone and forgotten, and she turned to Emm who was still at her side, and she threw herself into Emm's arms, weeping and sobbing as all the confusion
of recent events poured out of her and she broke down, with an afebrile convulsion - simply unable to cope on any level with what had been forced upon her: mentally, emotionally and physically, and her wail echoed around the valley, and Emm held her tight and safe and whispered in her ear, “all will be well, all will be well.”
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