Responding to Bryson

“Seven… six… five…”

What happens when the irresistible force meets the immovable object? What happens when the irresistible force meets the immovable object? WHAT happens WHEN the IRRESTIBLE force MEETS the IMMOVALBE object?!?! There isn’t an answer. This sphinx thing is trying to trick me into answering a riddle that doesn’t have an answer and I’m gonna die before I even have a chance to save my friends from a similar fate.

“None of your friends were able to answer it; what makes you think that you are any better than them? They fought… and fought… so hard to think of an answer, but I got them before they could even utter a word.”

They fought… and fought… and fought…

What happens when the irresistible force meets the immovable object?

He surrenders.

“I surrender!” I scream waving my hands above my head. “I surrender; you won.”

The sphinx stopped in his tracks. “That’s it?”

“Uh… yeah. That’s it.”

The sphinx snarls and claws the ground. The snarl grows louder and louder till his growl reverberates throughout the whole ballfield. My legs feel like jello, and I can’t breathe. This is it. This is where I die. “How could!?!? No one’s ever… you got it RIGHT!”

The back wall of the dugout slides back to reveal the whitewashed hallways where I came from. I can barely believe my eyes. “Go!” the sphynx shouts. “Leave, before I decide to kill you anyway.”

He didn’t have to ask me twice. I bolted out the door and down the hallway, back towards Mr. Wick’s classroom. Surely he has a picture from November 29 that can transport me back to that day. I burst through the door of his classroom, only to find it in complete disarray. Photographs and files have been tossed around the room, desks overturned, posters torn from the wall.

Looks like I’m not the only person looking for a November 29^th photo.

I scan the floor for any picture or folder that might look useful, till I find one with a wide black streak across the front. Weird… I pick it up, and sheet of paper falls out onto the floor. It’s a letter… addressed to me. The date at the top says November the 29.

Dear Future Self,

Don’t come back.