I'm participating in the Back From the Future Blog Hop.
Here are my Instructions:
You're up before dawn on a Saturday when the doorbell rings. You
haven't brewed your coffee so you wonder if you imagined the sound.
Plonking the half-filled carafe in the sink, you go to the front door
and cautiously swing it open. No one there. As you cast your eyes to the
ground, you see a parcel addressed to you ... from you.
You scoop it up and haul it inside, sensing something legitimate
despite the extreme oddness of the situation. Carefully, you pry it
open. Inside is a shoebox -- sent from ten years in the future -- and
it's filled with items you have sent yourself.
What's in it?
As I look out the window, I spot my neighbor waving from her driveway and heading my way. I open the door to see what she wants.
"I met the future you looking for your house to deliver that package," she points, "but you forgot where you live," she says.
"Do I move in the future?" Not that it would matter since I've lived in my house for twenty-two years.
"No. You're just even more forgetful than you are now."
Great. I thank her, close the door, and open a Stinga shoe box, a future best selling brand that sports "kick me" across the heals. The box reveals a half eaten donut with teeth digging into it. Under the donut clutching teeth is one smiley-face sock with a purple note sticking out of the top.
I snatch the note for a quick read.
Dear Me,
The 2013 economy is in a rut, so I've included something valuable to help you out. If you look closely at our teeth, you'll find gold fillings in the molars. As for the sock, I couldn't find the mate in 2023, so I figured I'd send it back to see if you have it.
Love,
Me
I take the teeth and start for the door, but I forget what I'm supposed to do with them. Oh well. At least I still have half of a tasty donut. I take a bite only to remember that I stopped eating sugar years ago. Darn! I guess I should give up artificial sweeteners too.
