Writing In Future Tense の小説・ストーリー

"The first novel was written at the pace of running. The second at the pace of staying. The third at the pace of becoming. The fourth is at the pace of — having been. The past participle. The thing that has already happened and is still happening." "That's a very specific tense," Dante said. "It's the most difficult tense," Elian said. "The present is immediate — you write what's in front of you. The past is narrative — you write what happened. But the present perfect — the thing that has been happening and continues to happen — that's the tense of permanence. And permanence is the hardest thing to write because it doesn't have edges." "Everything we've built has edges," Dante said.

“That was me from the very near future, who went to the kids’ school. Me in the present is not responsible for his actions.” “You from the future? What are you talking about?” My patience was running thin, and Carver was clearly enjoying my inner turmoil. He leaned in habitually and raised his brow. “It’s a possibility between us, love. My future self is sure about it.” “Oh, really!” It wasn’t too late to answer him in his way. So, I lifted my head, minimizing the distance from his sinfully alluring face. “I have that poison in my bag. Do you want it now or should I save it for the near future?”

“Yes. This looks a lot like the future.” “The future?” “Yes. Where I'm from. I'm from the future, and I miss it so much. Iphones, cameras, sweet junkies, beautiful buildings, flashy clothes, movies, popcorn!... There are just so many things I miss from the future. Who knows? Luna is probably enjoying the future, and experimenting with the different technology we have there.” “I don't understand.”

"Not until I've had a cup of tea and written a few thousand emergency theorems on paradox-based combat." "See?" I said, closing my eyes against the normal, un-simplified light. "We're already planning the next movement. The Crescendo of Really Annoying Specifics." And for the first time, the future didn't feel like a silent, grey wall. It felt like a messy, unpredictable, and very, very loud composition. And we were the composers, whether we liked it or not.

"Because you're always wearing black and scowling. It's ironic." I kicked him under the table. "I don't scowl." "You're literally scowling right now." I was. I relaxed my face. "Fine. I'll call you Jack. Very original." "Works for me." We went through everything. Future plans without being specific. How we'd answer the marriage question. What we'd say about moving in together. "Someday," Jackson said. "That's the key word. Someday we'll get engaged. Someday we'll move in. Someday keeps it vague."

No matter what the past held, my future was here, with them. ~The End ~

I quickly pulled away, picked the towel up, and wrapped it around my lower body again. When I looked at Victoria, she did not seem upset. Instead, she looked somewhat shocked, and beneath that shock was a hint of delight. I was thrilled. So, Victoria was not scrupulous either. That worked out perfectly for me. As I sat down across from her, she smiled at me. “You’ve got some nerve, kid. I’m your future mother-in-law, yet you have the guts to make a move on me.” Victoria was still putting on an act. I wondered how long she could keep it up.