My Name is Stephanie Adriana Morales and I Am the World’s First Time Traveler
So far I like the last millennium better.
My last clear memory of the linear progression of time was Monday, November 8, 2016. I was lying in bed reading “Sirens of Titan” by Kurt Vonnegut. Winston Rumfoord and his faithful dog, Kazak, were making a brief appearance in their home on the wave of a time warp phenomenon they’d encountered near Mars.
Dave came to bed late. I was half-asleep in dog pajamas when he spooned me and said, “I think Thlump is going to win.”
“No way,” I said.
He muttered something about the erectoral college.
I fell back to sleep.
In the morning, we tuned into “The Daily Show”. That’s when we knew the unthinkable had happened. A silver-spooner, narcissist, scammer, cheater, racist, womanizer, orange imbecile would be the U. S. President.
I cried into my Belgium waffle with Canadian maple syrup and Ethiopian Moka Java. An American breakfast.
