12-08-80

.16.

After rummaging around, John and I find various appliances I wouldn't mind losing.

"John I honestly don't know..."

"Don't know what?" I can tell he is playing a fool because he is adamant that this crazy theory will work. I glare at him and he gives a faint yet mischievous smile.

"What don't you understand Jules?" He resumed, with a much more serious and deeper tone. "We will cut one of these appliances, one each, or if you want we can use the same one, and basically electrocute ourselves."

"You say it as if we have nothing to lose." I say, exasperated.

"Hey Jules, don't make it bad..." He said this with a fraction of a smile, yet not so small for me to perceive some of his pearly teeth. I stare deep into his glowing eyes: he desperately needs this.

"Let's go - maybe - kill ourselves! Well, me at least..."

With this, John jumped up, grabbed my hand, pulled me up and we danced a sort of jazzy tango. He then pulled me in so rapidly my head spun. He looked deep into my eyes, leaned down, paused at the tip of my lips:

"Thank you." He mumbled.

His words sent waves of chills down my arms, legs and spine. He was about to walk away to pick up my toaster.

If these were going to be my last moments on earth, why not spend them with one of the only people I love? I regain my bodily functions and leap over to him and throw myself into his arms.

"Let's go cut some wires." I whisper as gently as I could. We lock eyes once more. This time, not only do our eyes meet, but so do our lips. As always, the world seems to spin around us and everything else seems to dissipate.

"We - erm - should get to the cutting of the wires, we do have a killer to kill..." His sheepish look replaces his previously tense one and he now looks much happier.

"Yes, absolutely."

///////////////////////////////////////

We decided my toaster should decide our fate: whether John and I will travel back to the 80s and make it back alive, or... Or what? I'd prefer not to think to hard about the or...

"You ready Jule? I'm going to cut the wire, then plug it in, then we will both touch it at the same time? And apparently we have to both think about the time and place we are going to, okay?" His voice quivers occasionally.

"Okay. How about we get there a few days beforehand? In case we are jetlagged?" I joke in an attempt to appease John's mind.

"So what are you thinking? The 5th? That would give us three days..."

"Okay. The 5th December 1980, New York City."

"Here we go."