I’m Not Saying This Is All My Fault

[call back to the summer time travel series]

Ada sat amidst a confectionary explosion. The satyr left hoof prints in his wake. His antlers scraped the doorframe.

“Hand over the timepiece.”

Ada blinked frosted eyelashes, pasted on her least mischievous, most endearing smile, and licked powdered sugar from her lips. “Who knew it would explode?”

The satyr scowled, “I’m not saying this is all my fault, but I should’ve known better than to trust a sneak thief with time travel.”

“The best sneak thief in all of Cornwall.” Ada corrected him.

“Aye, the best to steal and conceal the timepiece but no more.”

“I haven’t finished choosing the best patisserie in all of time.” The satyr’s expression grew menacing, as Ada licked her fingertips clean. “You know, I met you in the future. You weren’t very nice. Future you cannot be trusted with time.”

“I’ve dealt with that dilemma and then spent the last decade searching for you.”

“How’d you find me?” Ada asked, picking sticky bun from her hair and popping it in her mouth.

“Followed the sound of your stomach.” He glowered. “Hand it over!”

Ada pulled a disk from her coat. The satyr tore it from her sticky hand, only to find a slightly crumbled cookie. “I saved the last for you.” The pocket watch dangled from her fingers. “Gotta go.” He leapt for it but hit the floor as Ada slipped through time.

A very large, very angry man in an apron roared, “What’s this?”

The sugar-coated satyr grimaced. “It’s not all my fault.”

Photo by Dominique Shaw