"My name is Viktor," he said, "and I'm addicted to time travel."
For a moment, the crowd before him seemed slightly confused; Viktor himself had an inkling that there was a theme going on that he'd missed in the brochure. Many of the group were wearing old, sackclothian robes and red sashes, were bearded and had mock thorns adorning their brows. Jesuses? Jesusi? Jesi? He shook his head to clear his thoughts, and popped the last bit of hot dog into his mouth before continuing.
"The last time I travelled through time was about twenty minutes ago. I was running late for the group session, so I jumped back half an hour so I could walk in right on time. I got such a rush from it; my heart is still beating a little. I have to say, jumping back to the fall of the Roman Empire or to Washington crossing the Delaware River is something to get excited about, not a thirty-minute swim in the timeflow. It's gotten to the point where it's like an orgasm now; I have cravings for hot dogs whenever I jump. But isn't that sad? I mean, we're all in this together and we're all addicted to it in some way or another, but arousal? Am I truly losing it? Or....or..." Viktor bit his lip and closed his eyes. He thought GO BACK. When he opened his eyes, he was staring at the group again.
"The last time I travelled through time was about five seconds ago. I was trying to speak about my addiction, but it wasn't coming out right." He paused to gather his thoughts, but a hand went up in the back. Viktor pointed and the man stood.
"I'm sorry," the man said. He was curiously yoked to a rather large plank of wood behind his head; it looked like his wrists were actually nailed to the plank, but Viktor had a large imagination. "You're in the wrong room, Viktor. This isn't TTA, this is CCA, Christ's Crucifixionoholics Anonymous. We're all addicted to the death of Christ."
Viktor raised an eyebrow. "Isn't that just Christianity in general?"
When he got no response, Viktor decided that he'd had enough. Might as well quit while he was ahead---he'd given it a fair go, anyway. He closed his eyes and thought GO BACK. When he opened them, there was a shout of "Sic semper tyrannis!" and a gunshot and a woman screaming. He snapped his fingers; just missed it. He thought GO BACK one more time and appeared in one of the lower seats of Ford's Theatre. John Wilkes Booth walked up behind President Lincoln, shouted "Sic semper tyrannis!" and the back of Lincoln's head was erased.
Viktor thought HOT DOG and a ballpark frank appeared in his hands. That was a good show, he thought, and decided to rewind a bit and watch it again.
copyright Christopher K. Burch, 2007