John woke with a start, his heart pounding. He had been dreaming, but the details were already fading from his memory like wisps of smoke. All that remained was an intense feeling of unease and apprehension.
He rolled over and glanced at the clock - it was just past 3 a.m. Too early to start the day, but he knew he wouldn't be able to fall back asleep. His mind was racing now. John threw back the covers and swung his legs out of bed. Maybe a glass of water would help calm his nerves.
As he padded down the hallway towards the kitchen, John noticed a faint blue glow coming from under the door of his home office. That was odd - he was sure he had turned off all the lights before going to bed. Curiosity overtook his sense of unease. John gently pushed open the office door and peered inside.
The source of the light was his old desktop computer, which was emitting an eerie pulsing glow from the monitor. But that was impossible - he hadn't used that computer in over a year. John cautiously approached the desk. The screensaver was running, an endless stream of words flowing across the display like a river. He leaned in, squinting to make out the text.
As his eyes adjusted, John was stunned to realize he recognized some of the words. Phrases and snippets of conversations from his past were woven into the flowing script. It was as if his entire life story was being rewritten in real-time on the screen in front of him. Memories from his childhood, school days, first jobs, and relationships - everything that had ever meant something to him.
But that wasn't the strangest part. Interspersed with his own memories were words that didn't seem to belong. Unfamiliar names, places, and events weaved in and out of his personal history on the screen. John rubbed his eyes, wondering if he was still dreaming. When he looked again, the impossible text was still there.
A chill ran down his spine as John realized with mounting horror that the foreign words described things happening in the present - things he had no way of knowing. Addresses and descriptions of complete strangers going about their daily lives. Names and images of world events yet to occur. It was as if he was peering through a window into the future, seeing all the countless possibilities of what had not yet come to pass.
John stumbled backward, gripping the edge of the desk to steady himself. His heart was pounding so hard it felt like it might burst from his chest. Beads of cold sweat broke out across his brow as the implications of what he was seeing started to sink in.
This couldn't be possible. It had to be a dream or some kind of psychotic break. John pinched the skin on his forearm hard enough to leave a mark, hoping the pain would shock him awake. But the words on the screen continued their mesmerizing dance, and the room remained stubbornly real.
With trembling hands, John reached forward and tapped a key, hoping to disrupt the eerie flow of text. But the words just kept coming, as if with a will of their own. A thought occurred to him then, half-formed and terrifying to consider. What if this wasn't just a window into the future - what if it was shaping it? Altering the course of events with every letter that scrolled by?
John didn't stop to consider the implications further. He lunged at the power button and jammed it with all his strength. The computer emitted a high-pitched whine as it powered down forcibly. The pulsing glow flickered and died, plunging the room into darkness once more.
Silence descended, but John's heart still raced. He slowly became aware of a strange pressure behind his eyes. Raising a shaking hand, John touched his face and was shocked to find it wet with tears. When had he started crying? The emotions welling up inside felt too big for his body to contain.
All he knew for certain at that
moment was that something profound had happened. Whether it was a dream, a
psychotic break, or something beyond rational explanation, the experience had
changed him. John stood there in the dark, reeling from what he had witnessed,
and what it might mean about the nature of time and fate. The future, it
seemed, was more fluid than he ever could have imagined. And the river of
words, once seen, could never be unseen.
