Only after his third horrible encounter with the neighbors’ dog he realized that those weird daydreams he was having were actually memories of the future. The visions were vivid, but faded quickly. Hours later he could remember only the sense of urgency and, sometimes, the love or the terror. That day, after sloppily applying a bandage to his swollen ankle, he purchased a notebook and some pens. He then embarked upon a terrible, terrible effort to remember what those memories of the future were about. It amounted to nothing whatsoever. Come midnight he succumbed to his exhaustion, slept with the empty notebook in his lap, sat up in bed a bit after sunrise, groggily wrote something in the notebook, dropped it on the floor, fell asleep again, and finally, late in the afternoon, woke up.
He spent the evening avoiding the notebook, sensing – was that, too, a memory of the future? – that he’s not going to like what’s in there.
Eventually, indeed he didn’t.
Will fall in love -> have wonderful child -> crippled by child -> wife and child take care of handicapped in wheelchair till dead.
No bloody way, he thought. I’m not spending the rest of my life in a fucking medical contraption.
It took him a few seconds to become absolutely determined never to love a woman. It took the universe a few more seconds to collapse.
There was a woman who mutilated history. She did it by building a time machine in order to punish an unfaithful lover. It isn’t clear whether said companion was a man or a woman, for she or he, having never been born, is not available for questioning. That person, in fact, cannot be found anywhere and anywhen in history, or creation, or the universe, whichever way you prefer to call that phenomena.
Being thus erased, one might correctly assume, can hardly be considered a punishment at all, since there’s no punishable object. Notice how the words “any longer” were cunningly avoided here, as said object has never existed in the first place.
The woman who, also cunningly, built the time machine and removed her unfaithful lover from insert-preferred-phenomena-here, should have realised all this before executing her, well, cunning, plan, and indeed would have done so, were she not so taken with the blinding rage which caused her to build the time machine in the first place. She would have realised it soon enough afterwards – a somewhat inaccurate word, in this case – were it not for her action promptly – also inaccurate – erasing herself from the preferred-phenomena, and then – also inaccurate – the phenomena itself, which was replaced – also etc. – with something completely different in which we – etc. – live – etc. – right now – etc. – and know nothing whatsoever of women or men or time or rage or love.