The Beat of the Universe: A Tale of a Boy
It was Victorian Britain. A time of unrest and civil disobedience run rampant. A time where exposition was held high, and the details of the antecedent actions of this short story were explained. Really, it’s just Victorian Britain, but it’s also a dystopia. Is it that hard to understand? No. You got it? Okay. Follow along with me as I tell you this idiotic story.
There was a young farm boy. He lived on a farm, you see? He farmed many things, from animals to plants to fungi to protozoa to bacteria to archaebacteria. It seemed that he was a farmer of many things. This would later come into play in the story. Or it will come into play later in the story, I should say. Write this down. It’s important. No seriously. Get a pen out or something, and write it down. No, I don’t care where; just do it!
Anyway, he was walking along his farm one day, and he stumbled upon a rocket pod. Even though this is Victorian Britain, I guess the rocket pod came from the past or something. Okay, so it’s a far future rocket pod. Good? Good. So he opens it up, and finds an encrypted data feed that has a network of information from this vague future! What could he use this for? He could win bets, for one thing, but that’s pretty clichéd.
What he wanted to use it for was to look up records to find out who he would marry. For, you see, he wasn’t the sharpest young lad out there, and as such, he was not sublimely skilled in the aspects of courtship and speaking to the girls whose affection he desired. My main audience can probably relate. Just kidding! Really, stop taking offense. I’m serious, it was just a joke. Fine, be that way.
I will simply say that he was quite insecure with his prospects with the fairer sex. Quite a few rejections had left him cynical and nearly hopeless, until this data feed came into play! It had a vast cache of knowledge yet to happen, including his family tree for hundreds of years to come. Who was the lucky woman that would join him in marriage?
A girl by the name of… Margaret Roberts? Who? He continued to plunder through this sick loot he had discovered, and searched through a quite thorough database for who this young lass might turn out to be, and where she may be now.
The results were shocking; he would have to make some major adjustments to his lifestyle if he were to marry this woman. Fortunately for him, she didn’t much care for external factors, or else he would have been instantly ruled out. He wasn’t the most shining chap out there, if you get my gist. His most insurmountable problem would be how to reach her at all!
In a serious bout of Deus ex Machina, the recovered pod was able to teleport him to exactly the location he most desired. If this wasn’t as short a story, and I was writing for any sort of quality whatsoever, I probably would have included a more in-depth research on his destination, and some philosophical debate of the ethics of this pod and if any one person should ever be able to learn of the future. As a matter of fact, I probably should have done that, seeing as this story is going to be just shy of two pages by the time it is finished, which’ll be in not but two or three paragraphs; don’t worry your sorry little hide about having to trudge through such a horrid work of fiction. Anyway, he stepped on the warp pad on the pod, and off he went.
It was now 1951. It was still Britain, however. He looked up, shocked by the massive changes in culture in the near-century gap since his departure, but shocked just the same by the beautiful woman standing in front of him. She was obviously completely overcome with attraction for him, and this bolstered his spirits right off the bat.
“Why, hello there,” she greeted him. “Name’s Margaret. Yours?”
This was going to be an interesting marriage.