A time machine has to have flashing lights. It’s not a proper Time machine unless it has flashing lights!
It was a tiny little nookery of surprising inside dimensions. It only
seemed small on the outside. The shelves were full of interesting
things that looked very impressive. There were a myriad of blinking
lights.
“Welcome, welcome,” beamed the proprietor. Their nametag declared them to be Thiite. “Do you like my time machines?”
Blez Jenkins looked again at the items on the shelves. “These are machines that make travel in time?”
“Oh. No. These are machines that measure time,“ said Thiite, beaming proudly. “I made them myself!”
Ah. Okay. Thiite’s species must have just discovered clocks. “They’re very pretty,” she allowed. “How do I read them?”
“Read… them?”
“Yes. Which pieces indicate how much time is passing?”
Thiite’s
face was an expression of sudden realisation mixed with sinking, mortal
dread. “…i have made a grievous error…” she squeaked. “This shop is
temporarily closed while I perform some basic tweaks on my merchandise.
We apologise for the inconvenience.“
“I can help,” offered Blez. “I feel partially responsible…”
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