Walt shaded his eyes from the glare in the desolate landscape. He had paid the travel agent a hefty fee to go back to 1861 and the American Civil War.
He removed his headset and tucked it in the carrycase provided. Walt was in a battlefield. This wasn’t ideal, Walt had a plan and for it to work he must find the Commander of the Southern Forces.
There were rules to time-travel. You could go back to nearly any place (the Crucifixion was off-limits), but when you got there you must only observe. It was vital, the brochure said, not to interfere as there would be dire consequences.
Phooey! Walt exclaimed. He was going to find the leaders of the South and give them a detailed account of how the Civil War played out. That way they would defeat the North and as the folks back home put it: the South Shall Rise Again.
In the distance he saw tents and after stumbling through muddied craters he found Command Post. The first thing Walt noticed about the General was he stank to high heaven. The second was that the man was a dolt. The General stared at Walt in astonishment: what were those clothes, that accent, that curious pack on his shoulder?
Walt told him he had come from the future. The General’s aide took no chances. It took a single shot to the head to put Walt down.
They dragged his body away and dumped it with the others.
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Words: Richard Rooney
Illustration: A.I.
Flash Fiction 250
Flash Fiction 250 