Unknown Horizons

Glances from the Year 2120

When I arrived in 2120, I was struck by the smell of rain on synthetic pavement. It had that metallic edge, so unlike the real streets of 2022. I met Nora at The Gilded Past, a café where old world photographs adorned the holographic walls. She told me about her father's tales of the digital migrations, when people first moved their consciousness into virtual expanses.

We sat by the window, watching pedestrians in light suits that could adapt to weather shifts in a blink. My coffee tasted like an experience—a blend of memories and simulations. "Do you think time travelers have a different taste?" Nora mused, her eyes reflecting the neon skyline.

Return to Echoes

Reflections from 1985

The radio crackled in the corner, playing tunes from the golden era of pop. I was sitting in a diner on Route 66, halfway between nowhere and the next big thing. The waitress, with her beehive hairdo, slid a slice of apple pie my way, a smile crinkling her eyes.

"You seem a bit lost, honey," she said, pouring coffee into my cup. I chuckled, unsure how much I should share. Time travel, I decided, was best left as a mystery, even to one's self sometimes.

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