Ficlets

Sam cracked open his eyes. He was still on the same road, and for some reason, lying on the ground to its side. He also had several scrapes and bruises on his body. It was… painful, to say the least. Tilting his head a bit, he winced as a scrape was stretched, and noticed a notebook. “Brilliant,” he thought, “More orders.” He picked it up, moved into a sitting position, and flipped it open.

“This is why you don’t time travel in a moving vehicle, dummy!” Sam sighed. That would explain the scrapes. So he kept moving as he traveled through time. But the planet’s movement hadn’t left him behind. Strange. The writing continued, “Hitchhike into town. You look suspicious like this.”

Sam grudgingly stood up and waited for a car. Soon an old green truck approached, and Sam held out his thumb. The truck halted on the side of the road, and Sam walked toward it. The driver rolled down his window, and Sam cursed his future self again.

“Hey there sonny. My name’s Jonathan Spokes. Need a ride?”