The statement from his friend, physicist Matthew Ebbard, was wrong. “If time travel were possible, the time travelers must eventually go back to before their birth and change up the timeline just enough to ensure they never existed to build the time machine in the first place. That’s why we’ve never met one.”

Thousands of trips between the present and future, and 42 years of relative time later, Evan—who was meticulous and precise with every aspect of his time travel device—scoffed at this idea, even as his sleeve caught on the controls, sending the machine hurtling toward 1612.

Author’s Note: I love time travel stories and the inherent paradox problems. With only 100 words to address it, I try to capture the idea of a paradox, how it might be resolved, an approach to overcoming that undesirable resolution, and how fate sometimes plays a role to ensure that the universe operates as it should.

Categories: D.J. Kozlowski, Fiction | 2 Comments »

The people thought if they believed hard enough, it would rain. They asked her, wished it of her, begged her for it. Although Melinda the healer couldn’t make the skies open, she happily took the credit when it finally poured. But only that one time.

As the next drought persisted, they prepared the stake with plenty of kindling and sun-baked, dry wood. If the witch couldn’t make it rain this time, maybe sacrificing her would.

A slight bit of minor magic later, Melinda escaped with a singed ego and a newfound humility. She would do better in the next town.

Author’s Note: Melinda is a character I’ve visited in my other writing. She’s referred to as a witch by the townsfolk, but I think she’d balk at the label. This is the first time I’ve looked into her early days as a wandering whatever-she-is.

Categories: D.J. Kozlowski, Fiction | 1 Comment »