The Paradox Artist

“Why strand my town in the Cretaceous?” she asks.

“I’m an artist!” the futurian says. “My medium, paradox. My canvas, the multiverse!”


His time jumper beeps. “Too late.”

“There’s a deinonychus!”

He laughs, then feels hot breath on his neck.

Copyright © by Jason H. Abbott, All Rights Reserved.

Discover more of my Aethereal Musings.

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