The Most Timely Recipe

“I did it! It’s back.” Professor Lumley said, and grabbed the countertop for support. On the counter, the device that had once been a microwave oven, hummed softly and gave off a faint grey-white smoke that smelled of metal and burnt insulation. Inside it, visible through the dissipating haze, sat a hand-held digital voice recorder. It bore no trace of damage from the nearly-inconceivable power that had hurled it backwards through time and brought it to the time machine once again — no visible trace, at least. Time travel could do awful, twisting, destructive things, though.

He opened the door of the time machine and took out the recorder. His hand shook as he pushed the power button. When it flashed green and the screen came to life, he finally exhaled. How long had he been holding his breath? Breathe, he thought. You’re only halfway there.

He pressed the “play” button and relived the few seconds when he set it to record, placed it in the machine, and closed the door. There was a guttural squeal, the sound of an entire universe played in reverse at dizzying speed, and then…

“Oh please,” he whispered. “Be there.” He shoved back thoughts of the vast bidding war he could command if this worked and said his first-ever prayer.

When he heard the soothing baritone voice of Harlan Sanders quietly reading aloud the names and quantities of eleven very special herbs and spices, he nearly wept for joy. He was going to be rich.

Not every story has to be deadly serious. They don’t all have to tug at the strings of your heart. Sometimes, they can give you a good laugh at the end and leave you feeling just a little better for having read them. I think today’s story is one of those. What do you think?

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