Old Mark took a break from inhaling his food to sip from his Pepsi.
“This is really good,” he said after swallowing.
“Don’t they feed you in the future?” His question was meant to be sarcastic, but after asking, Mark wondered if maybe that was the case. Who knew what the world would be like sixty years from now?
Old Mark coughed as he stifled a laugh. “No. I mean yes. I had a very good breakfast of eggs, bacon, waffles and orange juice this morning. But this time travel thing, it’s really strenuous.”
“How does it work?”
“How does what work?”
Mark gritted his teeth. “Time travel.”
Old Mark waved the question away with a flap of his veiny hand and resumed eating. Mark watched him for a moment. For a guy who claimed to be from the future he seemed to be very unconcerned with the strangeness of it all. How often had Old Mark done this?
When the old man was done with his plate, he pointed at Mark’s. “Are you going to eat that?”
Mark shook his head.
Old Mark pulled the plate towards himself. He pause with the first fork full of food two inches from his lips. “Looks like it’s time. Let’s get down to business.”
“You’re ready to tell my why you’re here now?”
“Yes,” said Old Mark. “You see that kid over there?”
Mark followed the aim of Old Mark’s pointing finger. There was a guy, about Mark’s age, standing next to the dessert table. His limp, shoulder length light brown hair framed a colorless face. Mark didn’t recognize him, but he wore a university hoodie. The guy would have blended completely into the background if he hadn’t been pointed out.