As Mara walked into her room and approached the dresser, something on her desk caught her eye. The Chronicle of Continuity sat on the center of the desk, open as if someone had been reading it. As far as she could remember, she had left it in her book bag, which was now hanging on the hook on the back of the door. She walked across the room and lightly pushed the door toward its frame. Dangling there was the book bag.
She stepped over to the desk and stood over it. There, in her own handwriting, was a haiku she had not read before:
Quit being a twit.
Prepare like a pastor with
this realm’s Chronicle.
She frowned as she read the passage. At least quit being a twit sounded like something she would write. Of course, if her future self was writing this to her present self, that would make
