Gone with the Storm

Dean Marks.

In the 1800s I was an inventor. The machine I built was supposed to transfer energy of objects to other places such as a bowl of fruit. I had gotten far, not noticing that the apple I had previously transported had once been ripe and green, and then when returned was rotten to the point of mush. It went wrong. And sent me to a time far beyond my own. My face was different, the world was different. Whenever a storm rolls by I am hit by lightning no matter where I am and either changed or sent to another time era against my will. I don't get close to anyone. I move a step ahead of the oncoming storm if I can help it. Sometimes I just disappear.



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