Mum and I sifted through photos. I picked up one of Dad in the 1970's.
"Before he died, your father told me he'd once built a time machine and travelled to the future and back," Mum said. "He made only one trip and never told another soul because he feared disturbing the space-time continuum."
I remembered Dad in his garage, restoring cars, but a time machine?
In the photo, Dad held a rectangular object I thought might be a cigarette case. Then I remembered: he'd never smoked. I looked closer. My jaw dropped. The object was unmistakably a mobile phone.
"Before he died, your father told me he'd once built a time machine and travelled to the future and back," Mum said. "He made only one trip and never told another soul because he feared disturbing the space-time continuum."
I remembered Dad in his garage, restoring cars, but a time machine?
In the photo, Dad held a rectangular object I thought might be a cigarette case. Then I remembered: he'd never smoked. I looked closer. My jaw dropped. The object was unmistakably a mobile phone.
