[Flash fiction is an umbrella term used to describe any fictional work of extreme brevity, including the Six-Word Story, 140-character stories, also known as twitterature, the dribble (50 words), the drabble (100 words), and sudden fiction (750 words)]

When Pops said he was building a time machine I thought it was all a joke. Afterall his health has deteriorated very much in the last couple of years. But there he was one day with the widest grin ever on his wrinkled face.

“It’s ready!” he said in that unassuming manner of his. “Do you wanna try it?”

My jaw fell open. Was he inviting me, the kid who had no one to call her own, the one he had picked off the street and made his own, to accompany him on his first ever trial run? Of course there was no question what my answer would be.

“Yes!” I yelled, my hand raised, as if there was someone else in the room who’d beat me to it.

That’s how we found ourselves inside a contraption which looked like it was made from scrap material, and on our way, whirring and being thrown around in circles at great speed, nauseous to the core.

After what seemed an eternity, but was only a few seconds by our watches, our machine had landed in what looked like a dried river bed.
We got out cautiously, excited and scared at the same time. At least, I was. I don’t know about Pops.

“Hey Pops. Are you sure we are in the right age?”

“Of course. I double-checked the data before entering it.”

Pops is a genius. So I wasn’t too worried. And yet..

“It’s awfully quiet for that period in time, isn’t?”

Where were the marching armies? Where were the chariots, the horses, the bugle calls? Yeah, we had planned on watching a live battle. But there was total silence all around.

The sky darkened suddenly as if a dark cloud had materialised out of nowhere. I looked up in surprise and let out a yelp. I looked towards Pops and found his face was drained of all colour.

“Run, baby!” he said, his voice urgent.

But how? There was this unbelievably huge scary creature between us and the time machine. Its tentacle like hands made a grab for Pops. I screamed and screamed and hit out at what looked like its legs. The creature paid me scant attention though I kept hitting at it with my fists as hard as I could. It was intent on getting Pops into its ginormous red mouth glistening with drool. There was not a moment to be lost. But what could I do?

Just when I thought all was lost, and that I was the one next on its menu, another of the creatures flew in on enormous wings. These things could fly too? I was flabbergasted. I had no time to think of all that because immediately there ensued a fight between the two creatures. Pops fell on a treetop in the melee and crashed through the branches, falling with a thud right next to the feet of the creatures.

I could only hope he hadn’t broken any bones. But now he was going to be crushed beneath giant feet! I sprang into action, dove in between the gargutuan legs and dragged Pops a safe distance away. Luckily Pops was still conscious.

“Where the heck are we Pops?”

“Looks like a different dimension altogether.”

“Please, can we go back?”

Pops was already powering the machine. Both the scary creatures now turned on us like one. One swat of a tentacle and that would be the end for us. Pops skillfully manoeuvred the machine managing to elude the monstrous tentacles trying to get at us.

“Pops, how do we get back to our dimension?” What were dimensions anyway? I had no clue.

“I don’t know, child! I don’t even know how we got here in the first place!” He looked dejected.

“What the heck, Pops?!!!!!” This was a shock to me. Pops and ‘I don’t know’? He knew everything, didn’t he?

Apparently he didn’t.

And that’s how we were left wandering the in-between spaces with no hope of ever finding our way back. One day we’ll find our way back. Maybe. Or maybe another Time Machine will find us and give us a lift home. One day!

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Psst! If you are wondering how I am writing this story while wandering between dimensions, ahh, you’ll have to ask the author Shail. She has these crazy ideas so she should know the answers too, right? I can bet you anything though that she doesn’t have an answer and hence our chances of ever finding our way back is almost nil. Bah!

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NOTE: Today was the third meet of the BlankSpace Writer’s Club. The prompt this time was time travel/Time Machine with an element of horror. This was my response written in half an hour. Except for minor changes and rearrangement of sentences, the story itself remains unchanged. Not being a sci-fi person, the assignment was a difficult one for me.