A Mind in Motion

     It wasn't the early morning drive on just a few hours of sleep that had her on edge.      Or the way the radio only seemed to find more static than songs.      It wasn't the lack of traffic on the road--as she was traveling through the country after all, nor the occasional unnecessary amount of pot holes she had to keep avoiding on her way home.      No, it was The Fog .      The all consuming white mist that seemed to let her see just two car lengths ahead, and barely a full car length behind her as she passed through it.      It wasn't like it was unexpected, it was often foggy on her trips home when she had been out and about the night before.      But this one felt different.      Hell, it even smelled different.      Not like damp fallen leaves and wet wood, something that usually said fall was in full swing to her.     ...

     Time Travel fascinates me.      Especially when it is a part of a much bigger notion or tool in a story. It's often used as a means to fix something or reach an axis point where the direction of a moment can be encouraged onto a new path. The conditions or the reasoning are often selfish, even hidden under the guise of doing so for " the greater good" . On rare occasions, the traveler(s) are also curious explorers, fascinated (like me) by the many ripples that exist even within a fraction of a second of time.      But what if a traveler or two are just individuals who have accidentally crossed paths and, drawn by strong emotions, like love, find themselves breaking the barriers of time over and over again to forge moments together? What if they defy the notions that they could never be together like tragic star ( or in this case time) crossed lovers and don't just travel through those ripples but literally build new bridges wher...