The law of time!

As the black skies start to loom over the town of Kidlington Oxford, Mr Neil Roberts a former Oxford professor who lives at number 43 Banbury Road is sitting alone inside in his dark windowless basement, the only light source in the room comes in the form of a white lamp which sits on top of his desk, covered in drawings of his invention. He proceeds to open his second bottle of whisky as he slowly staggers over to a dirty looking white tarpaulin before yanking off the sheet, The removal of the sheet reveals this metal contraption that Mr Roberts has spent the last twenty five years of his life trying to build. This creation, this machine, he called his time machine. As he blankly stares towards the time machine he starts to mutter whilst working over the machine with his eye’s. “If only I can get this machine to work, figure out the final piece, we are so close now to reaching everything we ever wanted” Mr Roberts starts to reach into the breast pocket of his creased white shirt and pulls out a picture of his beloved wife, who two years ago today passed away from cancer. The pair had met back in college where they fell madly in love with one another over the interest of space and time travel.  “You were taken too early” his eyes started to fill with tears as he started to cry, “I will put this right, we will be together again my love I promise you, I will not fail you again” thick wet tears started to slide down his puffy cheeks. His lips trembling, shoulders shaking as he bursts into a heavy uncontrollable cry of emotional pain.    Moments passed as the night was very much upon us, winds were getting stronger as they started to blow the brown autumn leaves across the dark open fields. Mr Roberts is sat on the floor with his back up against the time machine, staring blankly at a ticking clock on the wall opposite him as the time hits twelve thirty in the morning. Looking emotionally drained and a broken man, his knees curled up to his chest tightly sobbing uncontrollably into his arms as he went to open up his 3rd bottle of Whiskey in an attempt to try and drown out all the pain and misery of losing his childhood sweetheart. Suddenly he puts the bottle down beside himself, almost in a traunse. He wipes away the snotty tears from his puffy bearded face, trying to find the strength to stand up on his own two feet, his legs weak and shaky as he staggers drunkenly over to a wrench lying on the floor beside his creation. He stands there glaring at the time machine thinking about how much time and effort he has put into trying to get this machine to work with no success, his anger and rage slowly building, his empty hand now balled up into a tight fist, his heart beating faster and faster, adrenaline flooding through his entire body until finally, he snaps, swinging wildly and out of control at his failed experiment, “ALL THAT WASTED TIME, WHY CAN’T YOU JUST WORK,”. Mr Roberts hot and flustered slightly off balance staggers backwards, baring his teeth he stands, heavy breathing out of breath and shaking before stepping forward to continue hitting the time machine in a blind drunken rage. “Please just f*****g WORK!” he screams as he continues to smash the machine in an intoxicated rage.