In the moment between this world and the future, between when the doors closed and when they opened, my mind finds much to think on. What will it be like, this world 250 years in the future? Will it cause me to rejoice for the great bounds in technology, or to weep for the degeneracy of the people’s souls? Will I be embraced as a sister, or be killed as a heretic?
I feel ill-prepared for this journey. I debated long what to take, but in the end had decided to take nothing much at all--only a protein bar thrust into my pocket, and of course, the two books I never travel without. Words to live by, and the words I had lived.
A new notebook, special for this journey, lies in my coat pocket, close to my heart, close to the other Book which would guide it. Its pages are white and pure, waiting to be graced with words of wisdom to be carried back to those waiting in the past.
"In the moment between this world, and the future, between when the doors closed, and when they opened, my mind finds much to think on." Excellent opening sentence that says it all. Frankly, I loved the whole thing. Very good! :)