No one suspects that I am secretly a time traveller. And that does make a degree of sense, because I’m not completely sure myself. I mean, sure, I do remember my entire life up to this point, but I’ve seen those shows on the sci-fi channel. Memories can really easily be faked by hooking someone up to a machine, or having a psychic person plant them in your head.

Basically, I really like music from the 1930s and I’d really like to have kids someday, which no one my age seems to want to do, so I guess I must be like from the 1930s or something. Secretly sent here, maybe to save the world.

I was looking up pictures of the world back seventy years ago, to see where I came from of course, and I stumbled upon a picture of some bathrooms on board those military submarines. I mean…wow. Anyone for bathroom renovations? I know it was made for war, but that doesn’t mean things have to be so…bare. The cafe where I go on the weekends just got some primo bathroom design in, thanks to an anonymous donor (maybe someone who time-traveled a hundred years into the past and became rich enough to make it so everyone has lovely bathrooms??), and now it’s so nice that you just want to hang out in there. It’s really spacious, everything is purple, and there’s none of that bathroom smell. You know the one. Everyone tries to hide it with various air fresheners, but it’s just a general smell- not necessarily a bad one, but still- that you find in all the bathrooms. But this one doesn’t. Like, how good of a bathroom designer do you have to be to get rid of the bathroom smell, in a public bathroom no less.

That’s some skill. Almost too much skill…like the person has been alive for over a hundred years, doing designer bathrooms in Melbourne, amd all over the world. That’s some altruistic time travel, if I do say so myself. Maybe I was sent forward to do something good as well?

-Lyle