Short Fiction Story, Chapter 1
The Time Traveler
All the signs are there, but we chose not to see them
“I am a time traveler.”
These were the first words professor Edmund West said to a filled auditorium at Oxford University. Everybody stood still and stared at the middle aged men at the podium. His trim mustache and combed hair complemented his three-piece dark grey woolen cloth suit and the new white shirt.
Professor West stood quietly, looking at the scholars, students, and other members of the London science community and listening to how a soft rumor grew. Some inquisitive and incredulous Oxford University council members smiled.
Before it got out of hand, the Professor continued his lecture, adding:
“Outrageous, ridiculous, the words of a lunatic. Don’t worry, I’ve heard them all, but before you discard my words and think of leaving the room, bear with me a moment as I explain.”
“Yes, I am a time traveler. But so are each and every one of you sitting in this room. The concept of time is wrong. For centuries, humankind thought we were only unwilling passengers watching time go by, but this is wrong. Time doesn’t go by; we travel through time.”
