By Jonathan Worlde
The machine transfers me to that dark wooded lot, where Joanne and I parked in my Dad’s old car on our first high school date. Skin, breasts, limbs, clothing asunder.
To relive this cherished moment I paid TimeZones ten thousand.
Something feels off, like I’m watching from a distance, a voyeur.
In the backseat, horizontal, we push and pull, thrashing and groaning. But I’m standing outside the car, getting hard watching. I tap the window with my flashlight, startling the undressed teens with my gun and uniform.
Somehow TimeZones screwed up—I’ve become the cop who busted us for indecent exposure.
Murphy’s Law strikes again! Nice one 🙂
Haha – clever!
As always, a good laugh with a twist of lemon
beyond being funny this is good writing – thanks