Time Machine

The labels were in Russian. Or was it Greek? Perhaps his story (excuse) changed. I believe he just couldn’t resist, all those levers, buttons. All that machinery.
Just saw you graduate, he types from 2015. It’s supposed to make me feel better about A-level physics. He forgets I still have to do all the work.
He couldn’t tell at first, he says. Bit warmer outside, but same concrete, same guards. Hungry from all that traveling, he bought a Big Mac. 100% soya, it said. 0.3% fat. He looked up the curling words he’d jotted on his hand. Forward. Back.