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    New Year’s Eve Letter from Future You

    Categories: Creative Writing Prompts Tags: creative writing exercises, creative writing prompts, writing prompt.

    At exactly midnight on New Year’s Eve you receive an email labeled “Open Immediately.” The really strange thing is that the email is apparently from your future self. What does it say?

    Post your response (500 words or fewer) in the comments below.

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    67 Responses to New Year’s Eve Letter from Future You

    1. juliandelacerna says:

      Hello Julian,

      Yes, it’s me, or apparently, you, Julian. Forgive my overuse of commas; I could not, for the life of me, find any better way of starting this letter without having to clarify the confusion about the sender. After all, what good is a letter if we don’t know who wrote it? Can its content stand on its own without so much as relying on the identity of the sender? I think the sender plays a significant part—huge part, really—in conveying the message, however covertly it may be. But I digress.

      This is to inform you how uniquely cruel the cosmos will be to you—us—because you—us (from here on in we)—are caught in a time loop. As you read this letter on the 1st of January 2013, the Julian on the 1st of January 2014 will be reading the same, and the Julian on the same date but in the year 2015 will be reading another similar letter, and ad infinitum, with the slight changes in the dates the only difference. While I, the Julian of the indeterminate future, am composing this letter in a specific period of times in between the years, as if I were lost in the kaleidoscope of Julians reading this letter across the years. (But they wouldn’t be evenly, lineally spread out from one year to the next, but circularly, the future occurring at the same time with the present and past, some peculiar webbing in time in which I, the composer, am caught in the middle.) But that isn’t the point; or rather, it’s merely part of the point, a small portion of it, a quarter of a quarter of a quarter ad infinitum of the point. For how can we ascertain how much of the point is being taken up by what has been revealed to you in this paragraph? But I, once again, digress.

      Despite your knowledge of the situation now through reading this letter, the beginning, i.e., the year you’re in, and the end, i.e., the year the you in 2014 is in—which is at the same time the beginning of that you (or us!)—will hardly matter and are usually relegated to forgetfulness. In fact, as you progress from one sentence of this letter to the next, from one paragraph to the other, only some of the words are remembered, and only the meaning of these words, filtered through your own interpretation and use of the language, remains. In fact, the very act of remembering without resorting to rereading the text will push the words back further to forgetting and what remains of the meaning can only be recovered through the filtering mind. In fact, as you tend to read further, you get more and more lost in the sprawling time and in the act of remembering that’s getting vaguer and vaguer that once you have finished the entire letter you realize that you have been rooted to the same spot despite the relentless passage of time—did you expect it to carry you along like some current?—and finding yourself caught in the middle of the web of everything flowing and ebbing around you. I end this letter now, lest I further digress.

      Yours sincerely,
      Julian

    2. Emma says:

      Ping.

      My iPhone lit up to tell me that I had received a new e-mail. I should have been excited – no one ever e-mails me. Or texts. Or calls. Or even speaks to me that much. Here I am, sat alone in my flat on New Years Eve and it’s midnight. Everyone else will be out there snogging the face of their nearest and dearest, or just whoever’s nearest. My parents have gone out to a party this evening; even they didn’t want to invite me. Not that I can blame them to be honest, I always manage to bring everyone else down with me. I probably should check that e-mail, it will probably be spam and I hate having that little red ‘1’ showing over the e-mail app icon.

      From: Katie Summers
      Subject: Open Immediately.
      Date: 1 January 2013 00:00:00 GMT
      To: Katie Summers

      Katie,
      I can’t bear to look at your self-loathing any longer. I need to give you a steer in the right direction. I just don’t need it right now. I can’t tell you much more, but boy your future self is going to have fun tonight, if you know what I mean.
      Get dressed. Go out. Go to the wildest party in town. Get laid.
      See you on the flip side,
      Katie
      x

      Oh my giddy aunt. My glass is full, I haven’t touched a drop and I think I’m still sane. Am I? Oh dear. I’ll check my phone again, just to make sure. Shit. I didn’t send this to myself, I swear. It sounds like me. Uses the same words as me. Sounds like she’s as self-important as me. It is me. Sounds like I’m getting some too, which can’t be bad. My future is clearly much brighter that my present. Anyone else would think I’m mad to believe this. But I don’t have anyone else, do I? What have I got to lose? I could do with a night out, even if it is with myself. I’ll just have a few drinks first. There, that should do it.

      ***
      The next moments of my life are a blur. I’m writing this retrospectively because I definitely wasn’t in the best state of mind to be documenting anything. I must have done exactly what my future self told me to because when I woke up, I was lying next to the most disgusting human being I have ever set eyes upon. The pain I was feeling, meant I had definitely got laid. What? It had been a while. I panicked and legged it out of that squalid flat as fast as I could.

      It’s the day after. I’ve woken up to 263 Facebook requests. Looking through the names I don’t recognize one single person. Where had I been that night? Why were so many people suddenly interested in me? 1 new message.

      From: Kayla Tinnet
      Hey Katie,
      Great night huh? You’re a legend for completing that dare! I wouldn’t go near that guy but you’ve definitely got some balls – so to speak!
      Catch you soon,
      Here’s my number 0765734899
      Kay x

      I had gone from nobody to a legend over night. What had I done? I dread to think what I’ve caught from that guy. Did we even use anything? Oh crap. I hope to God my future self knows what she’s doing.

    3. JudithG says:

      Dear Self,
      We’ve got some work to do!

      In May, 2012 I married again after thirty-seven years of the single life. I have many things to learn and to adjust to as I share my time and space with someone very special. I’ve made a beginning, but I realize I must make a serious effort to prioritize my goals and activities.

      My life is a different as it could be from less than two years ago. I am no longer a single, jet-setting, international art teacher. I am a happily married lady living a quiet life in a retirement community in Florida. I probably will not travel internationally again, something I did several times a year for the past 35 years. I have finally dropped anchor and have found peace in a quiet, stable life. To complete the adjustment, I must prioritize and organize, taking the best from the things I have and have accomplished and getting rid of the deadwood in my life.

      I am encumbered with possessions and clutter to sort and discard, and Big Ideas that I will never really attempt, much less accomplish. I am blessed with a loving and patient husband, a wonderful family (and new family) and friends. My goal this year is to get this in order.

      1. Generate some income
      Although I’ve retired, I still must generate an income to cover the costs of the debt I ran up in my first failed attempt at retirement. Taking another job is not an option, except perhaps in substitute teaching and teaching private art classes.
      Selling art work is an option, but I have to create some.

      2. Organize a work space.
      My studio is the ideal place, but I’m not living there. I have to get back over there and get it cleaned and set up. I can use the guest room in our home for writing and computer things, but the messy stuff needs to be in the studio.

      3. Improve my housewife skills.
      I’m not as messy in the kitchen as I was, but I need to be neater and more organized.

      4. Get my novel organized and ready for publication.
      It’s written, but not all entered into the computer. That will begin when I get the work space organized.

      5. Work on the Judyssey.

      6. Create and maintain a blog.

      7. Help my husband to have activities in addition to going to the gym and watching TV. I’ll probably have to do them, too, which will cut more into my time.

      8. Be honest about the projects I will be doing in the future and rid my home and studio of all those extra and outdated materials.

      9. Continue with the good habits I’m into, such as: exercising regularly; watching my weight and health; spending less; appreciating the good things and people that I have in my life.

      10. Get out of the house more and make new friends in my new life as a wife.

      Ready? Go to it!

    4. SuperSarah111 says:

      It’s New Years Eve, twenty-twelve. Only an hour and twenty-seven minutes remain before the inevitable mark of another year wasted. I sigh and flip open my laptop. What’s better for a disappointed spirit than a dose of facebook? Everyone smiling for the screen, pretending they have perfect lives. Recently tagged photographs of “friends” raising their glasses towards a camera phone make me bitter. It’s not like I couldn’t have gone out tonight too.

      “I just didn’t want to wear one of those stupid hats,” I grumble as I close out the window. Just as the window vanishes, it pops open again. This time the new message notice is glaringly bright and flashing with the number three in the middle.

      “What the-” I click and open the first message.

      Remember me? The good times we used to have? We wore that hat proudly. Not a care in the world. Blew that annoying noise maker until they took it from us and hid it. That was the eve of 2012. It was the night we met Kevin. That was a good night.
      -Super Sarah

      Below the message, seemingly written by me, was a picture of me. I was smiling. Happy. Even while wearing one of those stupid hats with the new year printed all over it. It had been a good night. But if I had realized that meeting Kevin would have been the beginning of the worst year ever, I would have never gone to that party.

      I went back and clicked on the next message. Anything to take my mind off of that pig slime.

      Hey there! Me again. Man, am I miserable or what? All my friends, probably Kevin too, are out having a great time and I’m here facebook stalking people. They are celebrating hope for the future while I sit here drowning in my regrets. That’s a bigger waste of time than the year I regret ever could be. I better get myself together or else…
      -(Not so) Super Sarah

      “Excuse me?” I was angry at whoever was pulling this cruel prank. Scrolling down to the bottom of the message I found another picture of me. I started to panic. Glancing around the room, I wondered how whoever it was took the picture. Glancing back at the screen I realized it must have come from- I spun around to face the wall by the big recliner. No one was there now of course, but that’s where they would have been standing to capture me, wearing what I’m wearing now, propped up on my elbow and begrudgingly forcing myself to look at my computer screen.

      “Cameron! If this is you, it’s not funny!” I called out to my roommate, although I thought she had left hours ago. “Or else what,” I mummbled.

      I closed out of the message, shuddering for a second at the thought that someone had taken that picture without me noticing their presence, and clicked open the third and final message.

      I’m so glad you asked that question. Or else you’ll end up alone, miserable and wallowing in regret. Not regret from the year 2012. Not regret from bad relationships or missed parties. But regret of who you let those things make you. You’ll regret having lived so bitterly. You’ll regret having given up on your friends. You’ll regret having given up on yourself. And you’ll die that way.
      -(Was I ever) Super Sarah

      The picture beneath the message was of a person who resembled me. But I was older. And much, much heavier. My gray, unwashed and matted hair was topped with a New Years hat. It said 2030 on it. My body reclined against the wall behind my bed and cookie crumbs littered the front of my ratty old pajamas. A laptop lay on its side beside the bed as if it had fallen off. I could make out a happy face on facebook starring sideways at me. A bottle of pills were spilled on the nightstand next to one bottle of Pepsi and another of liquor. I didn’t want to believe it, but in my heart I knew I was dead.

      “No.” The word slipped out of my lips so faintly that I barely heard myself speak it. But in my head I screamed it. “There’s still time! There’s got to still be time!”

      The clock on my computer screen read 11:52. I stood up and grabbed my coat before running to the New Years party down the road.

      “Sarah, you made it!” My neighbor beamed brightly at me as I burst through the door.

      “Yes!” I was so relieved. “Yes, I did.”

      In the living room, the countdown began and we hurried off to join the rest of the party. As the Manhattan ball began to drop, I resolved that the future would be different. I resolved to have absolutely-

      “Happy New Year!” Everyone shouted in unison with the beeping of my phone. I caught my breath at the sight of the facebook notice, and held it while I clicked open the message.

      …absolutely no regrets.
      -Super Sarah

      I laughed with delight to see a new picture of me wearing a 2030 hat. This time I was smiling and raising my glass to the camera phone. This time I truly looked happy. And obviously, regret free.

    5. justhowitsounds30 says:

      You know how it goes—with all of the hustle and bustle during the holidays, things are bound to be put off until a quieter moment arises. A house full of demanding guests (sure, I’ll make another batch of pancakes but with whole wheat, gluten-free, flaxseed mix) only compounds it, or at least that’s what the wife says. I finally got my reverie New Year’s Day and thought I’d check up on some things on the computer.
      So you’ll imagine my surprise when I came across an email addressed to me from…me. I figured I must have cracked from the chaos of the season, but after grabbing my glasses I saw it clearly stated my name. With a subject line pleading to “Open Immediately,” the urgency of that individual on the other line could not have been made clearer. Just as I hovered the mouse over the cryptic message, the phone rang. Rising from the chair I stepped into the country-influenced kitchen, replete with gingham-patterned wallpaper, kitschy stuff with roosters in all sizes and states, and my favorite possession—tucked securely under the phonebook were pictures of various levels of debauchery of Mistress Maxine, from across the street. Her coy smile, pouty lips, and heaving bosom have called to me, “Take me, Earl, just take me now!” …Poor Martha, she has no idea.
      “Hello?”
      “Hello, Grampa Earl, it’s Peter.
      “Hi, sport. What’s up? You don’t need money again, do you? I thought we decided we’d wait for a big Christmas present this time around from your grandma and me.”
      “No, no, Grampa, it’s not about money. I just wanted you to put the software that detects spyware, viruses, and the nexus of the internal…”
      “What are you going on about? Is that the big old kit for our computer?”
      “Yeah, I’m just reminding you to do it. Grandma’s worried about all the pop-ups and stuff you guys get.”
      “Peter, stop worrying over nonsense and go get that whistle wet. Grandma and I talked about it, and we’re OK with a homo grandson after all.”
      “Uh…what?”
      “It’s taken care of, Peter. Thanks for calling.”
      With my conscience clear, I could resume finding out what this email was all about.
      “OK, let’s see what I’ve got to say,” I chuckled to myself and clicked on the subject line.

      I didn’t get that email, though. That modem thing sparked and singed my eyebrows just about off and I really blame Peter for not installing the spyware. It looks like all of Peter’s parents’ mementos and pictures my wife had dutifully kept got lost. She got really upset about that, but I figure the brunt of the anger came from her discovery of Miss Maxine and my insatiable appetite for her.
      At the end of the day, I can go on just fine without the computer stuff. I do wonder, though—how immediately should I have read that email? I mean, it’s not like I’ve got a reason to soul-search, right? Right?

    6. Whimsical says:

      I sat bolt upright and looked wildly around the dark room for what woke me from a dead sleep. Then I heard it again. A computerized voice saying “You’ve got mail”, accompanied by a series of obnoxious chiming noises. I glanced across the room at the clock on my desk. There were only a few minutes left until midnight, a few minutes left until the new year.
      My laptop chimed again. I looked down at the floor next to my bed, where it must have fallen when I fell asleep while on Facebook. I picked it up, tapped the mouse, and the screen lit up. I clicked on the AOL tab and saw that I had sent myself an email. When would I have done this? Why would I have done this? For school, perhaps? There was a chance it was something to do with a big presentation I was preparing for my animal science class, but I didn’t remember sending myself an email. Curious, I opened the email and could not believe what I was reading.

      Hey,
      This is going to seem like some lame, ridiculous idea of a joke, but DO NOT STOP READING. PAY VERY CLOSE ATTENTION TO WHAT THIS EMAIL SAYS. I am you from the future. The year 2018, to be exact. Yes, you read that right. No, you will not understand how this is done for several years, so don’t bother.
      If I sent this thing on time, there are only a few minutes left of 2012. Again, pay very close attention. Some time tomorrow morning, the love of your life will come over. He will propose to you and then suggest that you go out to celebrate. Say yes to the proposal, but DO NOT GO OUT. Because of his father’s connections and position in the government, some very bad people will target Greg’s in order to get to his father. If you go out, the both of you will be kidnapped and Greg will be murdered. You will escape, but will be traumatized. You will marry a man with whom you will be miserable and will spend the rest of your life looking over your shoulder. Your work will become your life, and while that isn’t a bad thing (in the process of curing cancer in animals, you also find the cure for cancer in humans) a line must be drawn somewhere.
      After Greg’s murder and the assassination attempt on his father, you will testify against those responsible. For a few years, you will think you are safe, but they will ultimately find and punish you. I’ve only just escaped from them and rushed to send this email with the hope that you will read it before Greg arrives. Do whatever you must to convince him to stay in and wait a while to celebrate but do not tell him why. Knowing Greg, he’ll think you’re crazy and dump you anyway. Now start brainstorming. Good luck and happy New Year.
      Sincerely, You.

      After reading over the email several times, I shut down my laptop and sank back onto my pillow. Whoever wrote the email was right about one thing. I did think this was somebody’s idea of a joke, and not a very good one. I must have gone crazy. On the other hand, my father (a scientist working on confidential projects for the government) had confided in me with regards to his work with time travel and communication. He must eventually make some sort of breakthrough. Still, what this email suggested was ridiculous. Nevertheless, I had a strange feeling about the whole thing. Greg’s father was very high up in the government and had recently confessed a fear for his life.
      With this in mind, I got up and began preparing breakfast and a romantic atmosphere. I wasn’t ready to even think of loosing the man I loved.

    7. Mikaela_theBold says:

      Mikaela took her seat in front of her laptop, she popped open a can of DrPepper and sipped it as she turned the laptop on and waited. Moments later she logged into her email account and sifted through the inbox. Her eyes found an email that had been sent from herself. Curiosity piqued, she double clicked on the subject line.

      “Dear Myself,
      I know that today was particularly long, and while I forget some of the details I know that you are quite tired. I’ll do my best to keep this short.
      Rhys is about 13 months old now, and he is growing and learning so quickly that you’re afraid he’ll be leaving for college all too soon. Quit you’re worrying. He will be fine, and you need to enjoy every minute you have with him. You cannot take back a day, only give it. So make sure the days you give him are ones he will cherish.
      I also know that Abraham is only 20 weeks along, and you have just started to feel him stir in your belly. Do all those things you wanted to do with your first pregnancy. Celebrate yourself, even if you are concerned about the outcome. Remember the first time, the look on Joe’s face after you woke up in the recovery room, the cry of your newborn son in the clear sterile crib next to you. The pain of knowing how close you were to losing them. Take it, understand it, and vow to never allow yourself to regret anything with these men in your life. There is very little time to spend wishing and hoping.

      What you don’t know is that in the next few years you will remember all these things while you lay on your back staring up at the night sky, your life pouring out of you. With a smile on your face and satisfaction that you carried out the ultimate sacrifice again. Yourself.
      Don’t be scared. It happens for all the right reasons. The love you bear for your husband and sons saves them.
      Sincerely Myself ”

      Stunned speechless Mikaela’s eyes tear up, an ache in her chest causes her to let go of a sob. Looking back into the luminescent glow of the screen she sees an attachment to the email, and clicks on it. She uses the sleeve of her shirt to wipe the tears from her eyes so she could read the newsprint that had loaded. There was no date that she could see, only a clipped article from what appeared to be a newspaper.
      The article explained a tragic story of a mother and wife who, while on a camping trip with her family, stumbled onto a cougar who had been running towards the boys. It went on to explain that somehow, against the worst odds, this woman wounded the animal enough to scare it off, but received serious injuries in the attack. The hospital refused to release names. The article’s only picture was that of the cougar. The animal had been hunted down and trapped for further evaluation.
      She took in a deep shuddering breath. Deep in her heart she knew that she would offer her life up again and again for her boys. Before them she had never known the deep protective love of a mother had existed, and in her realization of it had promptly called her own mother to apologize and thank her for everything she had done.
      A soft jab from her tummy brought her back to reality, and she smiled affectionately, her hand gently petting the tiny foot pressed against the wall of her abdomen. Yes. She’d do it, and happily so.

      ~The other end of 23 years and an unexplainable email~
      “I don’t know why you were so adamant about having your laptop, and it took a lot of sweet talking to get the nurses to allow me to bring it,” Joe said, scratching at his fluffy, curly, red beard. “You should really be resting right now, baby.”
      Mikaela smiled, the edges of a raw wound peeking out of the bandages on her cheek.
      “I know, but someone needed to be reminded how little time we have.” She shut the laptop, and held it out for Joe to take. “I’m done now though…”
      Joe stood to take it and set it down on the hospital chair, before reclaiming his seat next to her bed. Mikaela turned her head just enough to look at the man she had married, and took his hand to place a ginger kiss on it.
      “I love you more…” she whispered, happier than she thought she had a right to be.

    8. Dracco says:

      My eyes danced over the sea of twinkling stars as I blew a frosty breath into the night. I absentmindedly wondered if the one glaring at me for center stage was the North Star. My dark sleeve rasped across my cheek as another fearful tear sliced a cold track down my face. Thoughts drifted aimlessly through my mind: Was I doing the right thing? I’m eighteen. This is my life at stake… What if this doesn’t work out? Can I do this?
      An angry buzz droned from my coat and I slipped my phone from its warm confines. An email sat unopened in my inbox. “Open Immediately”, eh? I thought. I glanced at the clock in the corner as the circuits strained to process the data: 12:00 am, January 1st, 2013. What a way to ring in the new year. The screen blazed to life and my eyes stung as they followed the strange message scribbled across the page:

      Hey there.

      Look, I know this is going to sound infinitely absurd, but please listen. The time is 12:00 am, January 1st, 2023. I am you, ten years from your now. Please listen! You’re wearing that grey-and-black jacket, right? You’re crying even though you won’t admit it, right? I know because I did too. I was able to send this message to you this once; don’t ask how, you won’t understand for a few more years, and I won’t tell you specifics about the future; if you deliberately try to do something that was supposed to be destiny, you may mess it up and that’ll REALLY screw us over. Anyway, I sent this to help you. I needed to let you know.
      It’s alright. We did it. Do you hear me? WE DID IT—I mean, YOU will do it; I already did—The Marine Corps is the best decision you could’ve made in a million years. Oh, the wonders you will see, the things you’ll learn… it’s indescribable.
      And do you know the best part? I found her; the girl we’ve always dreamt of. YOU WILL FIND HER. She’s asleep on the couch beside me. Man, if you could only imagine how beautiful she will be. What’s she like, you ask? She is wonderful. No other human being on this spinning ball could ever possess more of my love. She is my everything. You will be the center of her universe, too. If only you could know how amazing it will be when you meet her.
      So don’t worry. It’s all going to be alright.

      -You

      P.S. Yeah, that’s Polaris, the North Star.

      My hands shook in the frigid air. I wondered how I could possibly believe any of what the email said. Yet, it all had a strange ring of truth. My heart sped as I fell to my knees. I’m going to be alright, I thought, It’s all going to be okay.

    9. sake_of_simplicity says:

      “’Open immediately’. Well, that’s rather demanding. ”

      I stared at the screen, wondering what some random internet company was trying to sell me this time. A new car? Pills to enlarge my manhood? A trip to Cabo? Normally, I’d just click the delete button and send the desperate attempt to get my money into the far corners of cyberspace, but this one had somehow managed to slip its way past my SPAM filters so I figured, what the hell? I’d decided to stay in to avoid the insanity that is New Years, so it’s not like I had all that much to distract me anyways.

      “Helllllloooooo Sunshine!

      ‘Open Immediately.’ Dull. Boring. Demanding. Overused. Annoying. I KNOW! But apparently, there are rules to this whole ‘writing to yourself in the past thing,’ and they wouldn’t allow me to put anything witty or entertaining in the subject line that would be a dead giveaway that it was me. Or you. Or…you know what I mean. And don’t ask ‘who.’ We don’t have time for that. Just imagine it was the Doctor that put this all together. We’re sane enough to know that’s highly unlikely, but it’ll make us happy nonetheless. Anyways, they wanted this all to be ‘fate’ and ‘destiny’ and whatnot, and a ‘if it’s meant to be, it’s meant to be’ type of thing, so there couldn’t be any sort of sign. You just had to know.

      That is all beside the point. I have limited time and space, so let me get right down to it.

      GET YOUR SHIT TOGETHER.

      Sorry to be so blunt. Not really. You knew what was coming. You’ve met me. We don’t do subtle.

      You are awesome. Amazing. Funny. Pretty. Occasionally smart. But right now, on January 1, 2013 at 12:01 a.m., you suck. Hardcore.

      What’s happened? And why haven’t you done anything to fix it? You’re in a slump. You know it. I know it. The world knows it. You glance at college applications, but you never fill them out. You drag yourself out of bed every morning to go to a job that you hate. You joined a gym last New Year’s so you could ‘get in shape,’ and I’m fairly confident you’ve been as successful with that as Lindsey has been with rehab.

      Working, even if you love your job, is going to suck some days. Brownies are always going to taste better than rice cakes. Boys are always going to be confusing and sometimes assholes. Mom is always gonna be nuts. What makes the difference is how you respond to all of it. Don’t let the crazy control you. Laugh when you fall. Smile when you want to stab someone with a pointy pencil. Live the lives you write about.

      I’ve seen the future. It’s pretty fabulous. But only if you make it so.

      See you there darlin’.”

      I smirked at the screen as I wondered how I’d managed to outsmart my SPAM filters. Damn, I’m clever.

    10. Laura S. says:

      “What does it say?”
      “Open Immediately,” my voice was shaky. I didn’t know why I thought so negatively so quickly.
      “Go for it, you never know.” Stephanie was optimistic even when all signs point to doomed.
      I opened it not realizing I was wincing.
      “What is wrong? You look scared.”
      On the screen were the strangest words I’d ever been sent. The message described the clothes I was wearing, what Stephanie was doing and what I had planned to do on New Year’s Day. I was speechless. Stephanie walked over to read it. What she said made me jump out of my chair and brace myself against the couch.
      “It’s blank. What are you so nervous about? Does that mean something?” She set the tea on the table to come over to hold me up.
      The email said that she would say that and to stay home and not go to the brunch we planned on going to that morning. The events it would set up would change us forever. I left without saying a word. I went to my usual place to think for an hour. Stephanie was still up when I came back. She sat up and talked faster than I could process. What I told her stopped her in her tracks.
      “It came from me. The email came from me from the future. It was a warning to avoid going to the diner and meeting with you Donald, Kristen and Chris.” She was rocking in her chair she was so excited, she tried to interrupt but I refused to let her for fear of not being able to continue. “It said not to go since we would be dragged into a kidnapping that Chris set up. The email from me said that you wouldn’t listen so I needed to keep you here.”
      Stephanie laughed a nervous laugh. “You have to be kidding it was a blank screen.”
      “No, it was real it described our night. Including who would knock on the door in about two minutes from now. It also had every word you would say tonight. So far it’s accurate. So with that said, I will do this now.” I hit my friend in the head knocking her out and proceeded to tie her up to a chair. The knock on the door came but I didn’t answer. I knew who it was anyway. When I looked out the window it was Chris.
      I waited for Stephanie to wake. When she came to I told her I would release her once we got proof from that we were safe. She promised to move out and to never talk to me again. The morning paper came but it had nothing about a kidnapping. Stephanie gave more protests but I waited. I was about to give up when the seven o’clock news reported a kidnapping outside the diner involving a car just like Chris’s. We never went to that diner again.

      • penney says:

        This was alright but I would have liked to read more about significance of the “Chris” or the magical disappearance of the email from the screen(probably not important) why it was blank. It’s interesting that that she was sort of kidnapped in order to avert a kidnapping.

    11. Melissa says:

      Dear Kate,
      It’s me, Kate. I know this may seem unbelievable and it should. Things like this don’t happen. Getting an email from from the future, from yourself is plain crazy. Well, this is not really from “you”, from the person you are today. It’s from me, the future you. Each day turns us a little more towards the best we can be, or the worst we can be. So tomorrow you will not be the same. Or next week. Or next year.

      I know you will be disappointed to hear this, but I’m not going to tell you what will happen in the next year. You think that knowing the details will make it somehow easier. But there is a reason the God created this thing called time. There’s a reason we can’t move backwards and forwards along that line at any speed we choose. Truth is, we can’t handle knowing all the things that await us. Don’t believe me? Take a look at last year. If you had known ahead of time that you would lose your mother, lose your home, lose your husband’s income for six months, and lose your relationship with your son because of drugs, what would you have done?

      You can’t fool me. You would have worried yourself into an early grave. But before that you would have done everything in your power to prevent the inevitable, only to be left frustrated and angry. Instead, because these things unfolded in their proper time, you grieved our mother’s death and that hurt is now healing. The rent house is easier to manage which has freed you up to paint more, and Tom found a job he loves. Matthew, I know. He’s still using and it’s heartbreaking. But you are dealing with it and through this you have made several new amazing friends. Friends you can’t imagine living without.

      So, I’m not writing to tell you what the future holds. As with every year, there will be happy times, there will be sad times. I am writing to tell you to not fear what lies ahead. You have everything you need to get through it all. With your whole heart, enjoy the good times, and as it comes your way, endure the bad.

      Just please don’t waste another minute. Live— really live —while you can.

      Start now.

      Kate

    12. missab5 says:

      The champagne slid easily down my throat. We’d just counted down to midnight and it was officially 2013. All I could do was sit there, too drunk to do much else. My phone vibrated in my pocket clumsily I removed it. Vision blurry I stared at the email notification. “Open Immediately” it said. That’s strange, I’d sent it to myself. And the date was 1/1/2023. That can’t be right. I’m clearly very drunk. Just for kicks I decided to open it.

      Melissa,
      I need you to sober up and fast. Lydia is about to snap and kill her neighbor. Luckily no one sees it happen. When she comes to you, you will help her bury the body in the backyard. The next day she will have cement poured for a patio. I have to warn you. It was just dug up. Lydia is in jail for murder and I’m about to be arrested for accessory after the fact. Either stop her or find somewhere else to dispose of the body.

      Damn it. That sounds like something we would do. Suddenly sober I went in search of Lydia. I found her in the backyard arguing with the bastard from next door. Everyone else was inside still toasting in the New Year. Even though I knew the guy had it coming I had to protect Lydia. I had until I reached them to decide how I was going to do that. Option 1- Separate them before it happened. Option 2- Help her kill him and find somewhere else to dispose of the body.

      The argument escalated as I approached. He slapped her and she responded by stabbing him with the knife she just so happened to have in her hand. Looks like it was going to be Option 2. Running over to them I covered his mouth as he made to scream. I held him as she finished the job. Hands bloody we stood over the body. I told her about the email.

      He’d just gotten home from the bar he frequented. Almost every night he got into a fight there. We piled him into the back of his car as Lydia drove it there and I followed in my car. Dumping his body in the alley there we hoped it would look like he’d gotten into a fight with the wrong person. Returning to the house no one was any the wiser of what we had just done. Joining in on the revelry we acted as if it hadn’t happened.

      The things you’d do for a true friend. Let’s hope I don’t have to send myself another email about this in ten years.

      • penney says:

        This could well become a looping story or groundhog event where the body just keeps showing up.

        • missab5 says:

          The possibilities could be endless. In my twisted mind all sorts of bad things could happen. The fact that this story could really happen is what makes it funny to me. On multiple occasions I’ve offered to help my friend bury the body of her husband and/or son in her backyard.

    13. Sweet-n-Low:
      Remember how Brittani used to call you that when we were younger? I do. Cousin Heidi used to, also. Are you even that way anymore? Sweet and humble. At 27, you were so kind to people, but you always seemed to see through the facade people put up. Now? Let me tell you about now, Low. Honestly, I would like to preface anything else I write with this. I know you’re still single, but guess what? You better enjoy it, because, girl, you are gonna wish you had. Seriously.
      Remember that man you always wished for and dreamt about – the man whose face you could not see, but you recognized who he was somehow? You know…right…the broad shouldered, sky high man with blond hair and big hands? Yep, so you married him several years after moving out of Mom’s house after you moved back to VA, and live in a very nice neighborhood. I can see you saying So What? That’s Great! But, the good part…while you’re a sought after writer, you have two sets of twins to take care of, four years apart. Don’t gasp. Twins run in his family; even he is a twin. You should see yourself. Busy, but much thinner and happier.
      You’re as moley as ever, and your hair has gotten even longer, and has streaks of white in them now that you’re 54, but those dimples are just as deep. Well, he’s calling for me…we’re on our way to church for the new year. I can’t wait to meet you one day, and don’t worry… there are some very exciting things coming. Some very important doors are about to open for you.
      Love Always, Lo.

    14. I’m sitting on a cold toilet seat, hastily putting together a comedic tweet about how ironic the night had become.

      #tookdatetoexpensivesushibarnowsittingoncheaptoiletseat

      The bass from the booming techno mix is still reverberating through my core even in the restroom, but no longer shaking lose my insides. It was midnight and I had abandoned my date on the dance floor to rush to the toilet before my poorly planned, all-you-can-eat sushi made a hasty exit. As I am formulating my tweet, my phone alerts in my hand. It is an email, marked “OPEN IMMEDIATELY.” I can hear the shouts and hollers as the magic moment hits. My date is most likely looking for me, or perhaps locking lips with the hipster enginerd that had be trying to move in on her while we were dancing. But instead of wiping myself clean and rushing back to the dance floor, I open the email, because it is addressed from “me,” well, from my GMAIL account at least.

      Dear Me, You, Us,

      Hey douchebag (and I mean that in the strongest sense because you are one right now, stop hash tagging everything, it’s not hip, it’s stupid). Let me give you some quick specifics that only we, you and I, would know so you take this email serious. One: only we know the real reason you had to rush out in the middle of the night and buy a new keyboard for your parent’s computer when we were sixteen and you ditched your shame in a dumpster behind the store. And two: your anus is currently burning from all the wasabi you ate just a few hours prior.

      I sit frozen, wanting to wipe away thus specified burning sensation, but afraid to because doing so would confirm that somehow I have emailed myself. So instead I continue reading.

      I am writing you from GOOGLE’s beta program TIMEMAIL. I know, pretty lame name, but we didn’t come up with it. We did help write the code for the program, and I shouldn’t have to explain how well it works. If you are reading this email, then I have successfully sent you a message from twenty years in the future. What I am about to say will change all of this, and everything else. That hipster who was moving in on your date, well, the way the night would have unfolded, you two are about to become best friends. He’s a bit of a genius. You two come up with the idea of TIMEMAIL and his tinkering is what gets the program to work. Bestselling APP ever, but it’s only been sold to the ultra-rich, ultra powerful, and they are using it to become even more well off. You need to kill that man. He can’t be allowed to create such a powerful program. You must stop him.

      I turn off the screen to my phone and take a moment to process, before I finish my business and decide to never eat sushi again. Happy New Year!

    15. pop says:

      Some choices are easy,
      Some more difficult.
      To disregard myself
      Most surely leads to pain of one sort
      Or another.

      So you tell me

      Pain is good,
      My choices are still free,
      I am free to listen and I am free
      To take heed
      And I am free to cast away -

      To fly free

      To the unknown as it should be
      As it has always been
      And how it can be no longer

      Unintended consequences,
      A Being suffering
      The effects of Double Effect
      Unavoidably

      To save Myself

    16. hedwigy13 says:

      Dear,
      Me (I mean you, Nick!)

      Alright, there isn’t any way to put this easily, so here goes nothing: I’m you. Future you. You from twenty-five years from now. Don’t start racking your brain for how, because you won’t be able to understand it for twenty-five years. What’s important about this is why.
      There are some instructions I am going to give you, and you have to follow them. Some might not make sense, others will deal with events years in the future. You’re twenty-three years old, man, and I’m forty-eight. A hell of a lot is going to happen in the time between. First: Break it off with Carrie. It’s not going to work. You’ll get married, and she’ll end up pregnant. But not with your kid. You won’t find out it’s some other guy’s kid until you’re actually in the hospital and she’s in labor. She’ll leave you, and the baby, so you’ll have to raise this kid that isn’t even genetically yours. End it with Carrie before it goes that far.
      You’ll be transferred to the Atlanta PD in March 2019. Don’t go. There’ll be a bank holdup, and they send you and a few others in. The guy blows the place up. Your partner, the love of your life, dies in that bank. You barely make it out alive, and you’ll sit in a coma for eleven months. Then it’ll take another six just to get control of your legs. You’ll always walk with a limp. And, as I’ve learned from a different future version of me/you, you end up with lung cancer when you’re fifty-something. That never happened to me, this version of you. It’s confusing. Don’t try to understand it. Just know that there are an infinite number of future-me/you’s each formed by one action. Confused much?
      This next thing is ahead of me, and I can’t even know if this will happen to this version of me (you). When your father has the heart attack, have him transferred to another hospital as soon as he’s stabilized. There’ll be a power surge late that night, and all the power will go out, and the backup generators won’t kick in right, and he’ll die. The future me/you’s that’ve had this happen can’t live with themselves anymore, and they aren’t even really sure why.
      Other things include: On May 19, 2021, the answer to number eight is N/A – it’s a trick question. On September 27, 2033, take the stairs. Don’t forget the safety on the handgun on August 6, 2017. For February 11, 2028, the winning numbers are 16, 2, 9, 11, 19 and 18. And go to the party on June 30, 2023. There, you’ll meet other versions of us’s amazing, loving wife, Grace.

      Finally, Nick, don’t let her walk the kids to school on the sixteenth of March in 2034. Please don’t. You’ll regret it. Every version of you that lets her walk the kids to school that day commits suicide eventually.

      Sincerely,
      You (I mean me, Nick!)

      • penney says:

        Definitely confusing to who ever is the receiver of this letter(me, no you, no the other Nick). So how many alternative versions of himself does he encounter in order to finally send the letter the right version of himself. It’s good but it seems to much for a person to even bother with because there’s to many alternative universes to try to follow, with the question of whether they all lead to the same destination. Just live life.

    17. dgberry says:

      Sorry, but this sucks, if I cannot delete or edit a post.

      • penney says:

        Your bit is good but since it’s all fun and a writing exercise you could twist even this approach into a type of letter to ones self. As for deleting a post, I have never seen that option before in the year that I have been using these prompts. Furthermore, editing can be done before posting in a word document and saved until you really are ready to attempt a post. Best of luck next time.

    18. dgberry says:

      The clock is ticking just like last night and the night before. So what? There is no magic in this man-made concocted system of perceiving the passage of time, the progression of events that happened briefly before, that are happening briefly now, and that will happen briefly later. It is simply the ongoing rotation of astronomical bodies and matter of which you are an integral part. Your integral part has moved from a distant past to a recent past and is progressing through the infinitesimally small NOW to the immediate far reaching, expanding future. So what?
      But that does future stretch into … infinite eternity, of which you are only an infinitesimally small speck. That speck is as wide as all unbounded eternity for you, previous, now and forever. Everything, absolutely everything exists within that tiny speck. It is replete, fraught, jam-packed with potential, infinite potential, as well as complete, never happened nothingness. What will you do with it, that speck? You have only one chance. It will mean everything, and totally nothing. I have sent you, myself, this message to tell you that your chance is NOW, as it has ever been, NOW. Do what you will. You have the rest of recurring, repetitive, recursive NOW to bustle in. Show us what you’ve got.

    19. dgberry says:

      The clock is ticking just like last night and the night before. So what? There is no magic in this man-made concocted system of perceiving the passage of time, the progression of events that happened briefly before, that happen briefly now, and that will happen briefly later. It is simply the ongoing rotation of astronomical bodies and matter of which you are an integral part. Your integral part has moved from a distant past to a recent past and is progressing through the infinitesimally small NOW to the immediate far reaching, expanding future. So what?
      But that does future stretch into … infinite eternity, of which you are only an infinitesimally small speck. That speck is as wide as all unbounded eternity for you, previous, now and forever. Everything, absolutely everything exists within that tiny speck. It is replete, fraught, jam-packed with potential, infinite potential, as well as complete, never happened nothingness. What will you do with it, that speck? You have only one chance, the NOW chance. It will mean everything, and totally nothing. I have sent, you, myself this message to tell you that your chance is NOW, as it has ever been, NOW. Do what you will. You have the rest of recurring, repetitive, recursive NOW to bustle in. Show us what you’ve got.

    20. “Okay sweetie, one minute until midnight. Get those lips ready.”

      “Oh, they’re ready,” I say.

      Janice blows me a kiss and turns to watch the TV behind the bartender. Janice. Sweet, adorable, beautiful Janice. It was fate that we ran into each other tonight, on New Year’s Eve. It has to be a sign that we were meant to be together. I can’t wait to kiss her at midnight and start the new year off together.

      Buzz-buzz-buzz. I pull out my phone to see that I have an email. That’s weird. It’s from me, but it’s dated a year from now. The subject line says “Open Immediately!” As the crowd begins to countdown from thirty seconds, I read the email.

      AT MIDNIGHT, DON’T KISS HER! WHATEVER YOU DO, DO NOT KISS JANICE! OUR FUTURE DEPENDS ON IT!

      THE FUTURE YOU

      What? This is crazy. This has to be a hoax.

      20… 19… 18…

      I watch Janice counting down with the crowd, a big, excited smile on her face. What if this isn’t a hoax. What if I ignore the email and kiss her and mess up my future.

      10… 9… 8…

      “Okay sweetie,” she says, “pucker up.”

      Oh my God. What do I do? I don’t know what I should do.

      3… 2… 1… Happy New Year!

      Janice leans in for the kiss.

      “I can’t do this,” I say.

      “What? What do you mean?”

      I grab at the first thing that pops in my head. “Uh, isn’t it bad luck or something to kiss at midnight?” That was stupid.

      “No, silly. It’s good luck to kiss. Now come here Bing-a-ling.”

      Bing-a-what? I step back as Janice steps towards me.

      “Quit running from me,” she says. “Now kiss me, Chandler.”

      What? Who’s Chandler? When I turn from Janice, I see my reflection in the mirror behind the bar. But instead of seeing me, I see Chandler Bing from Friends staring back at me.

      Oh my god. Could this night get anymore weird?

      Janice wraps her arms around me, and I wriggle out her grasp in a melodramatic way. I tug at my sweater vest, trying to pull away the Chandler layers and get to the real me.

      “Chandler, what are doing? You’re scaring me,” Janice says, stepping away.

      “I’m not Chandler,” I yell over and over as I pull and pull at the sweater.

      When I finally get it over my head, I notice it’s not a sweater anymore. It’s a blanket. When I look around, I’m not in the bar anymore. I’m in my bed. In my room. In my apartment.

      I get up and run to the mirror to see my reflection. It’s me—the real me—staring back. Oh thank God it was just a dream. I guess watching 12 episodes of Friends yesterday was a bit much.

      As I get back in bed, my roommate busts into the room holding a frying pan.

      “I heard yelling and screaming in here. Is everything okay? I thought maybe a burglar got in,” he says.

      “No, yeah, it was just a bad dream.” I gesture to the frying pan and say, “Really? A frying pan? What were you gonna do, make him an omelette?”

      “I, uh, I don’t know,” he says. “Ah man, now I’m hungry. I’m gonna make me some eggs. You want some?”

      “No, I’m going back to sleep.”

      “You sure you want to do that? I mean, that’s when you had the bad dream.”

      “I’ll take my chances.”

      “Okay, suit yourself. Good night,” he says as he turns off the light and walks out.

      “Good night, Joey.”

    21. catbr says:

      “Happy New Year. Big deal. Now I get to start another sickening year filled with more of the same. It gets real lonely when there is no one to share your life with. You know how alone you really are when you talk out loud to yourself all the time.” Mona had been thinking negatively for the past few months. “I guess I’ll check my email before I go to bed.”

      “Hey there Mona don’t be so glum. Things are going to get better in the upcoming year. You are going to meet someone that you’re going to fall in love with.” The email read.

      “This must be some kind of a joke. I don’t even go out much so how could I meet anybody.” Mona thought to herself.

      “I know you don’t believe this but trust me, I know. Your days of dullness and loneliness are going to end. I can’t give away too much because it’s not allowed. Now that my life is coming to an end I was able to give you this message to save your life or should I say my life. I am your future self and I know that you are seriously thinking about ending your life tonight.”

      With tears streaming down Mona’s face she continued to read the email that saved her life.

      “Deep inside Mona you are a very loving and caring person. You are finally going to go into the type of work you’ve always wanted in the health care field. This is how you are going to meet this special person. So don’t be discouraged any longer. Oh and have a Happy New Year. I know you truly will this year.”

      A smile slowly appeared on Mona’s face as she wiped the tears from her face.

    22. Emery_L says:

      RE: 11, 13, 23, 39, 1, 4

      Pay very close attention. Take this lightly and you’ll co-exist in a land of “gray” for the duration of your natural life. Follow my simple instructions, and the divide between fantasy and reality will dissipate.

      Two options. Two paths. Two fates. Your choice.

      The numbers above are very important but I want you to disregard them. I need you to focus all of your brain power on the sequence of the numbers. The pattern, not the numbers, will unlock an ultimacy of wealth beyond your reach.

      Each number is strategically positioned and rightfully so, it’s a key. But any disruption in sequence will flaw the keys blades and you will lose out on hundreds of millions of dollars. It’s very simple. REMEMBER THE PATTERN, DANNY!

      Sorry for screaming, but I know you. I know how you think. I know how your brain works. Why? Because I am you. I know how freakish, fraudulent, creepy and weird this slightly futuristic email sounds to you.

      But I am not trying to convince you or build rapport, we don’t have enough time for that. I need you to do two things. One, man the f*ck up Danny and two, remember the pattern!

      Take this “key” to the bodega on 154th and Lennox and pass it and a dollar bill to Garundo. You will know it’s Garundo because he has a nametag on that will say “Garundo.” He will then hand you a ticket with the exact sequence of numbers on it, ensure Garundo got it right. It’s very important Danny!

      Head back to your piece of sh…I mean apartment and keep the channel on 67. At 8:00 p.m. an announcement will be made that will change your life forever. Thank me later!

      Best,

      $325 Million Dollar Man

    23. secret squirrel says:

      The Time Traveler

      Dr. Stephens, a tenured professor and well-known astrophysicist employed by Stanford University, spent the last 30 years of his life working on his theory of time-travel. Even though his work was not embraced by the scientific community, Dr. Stephens never became discouraged, and his determination eventually paid off. He finally solved the most arduous problem of his last time-travel equation, at least in theory.

      Dr. Stephens immediately contacted the school’s Public Relations Office, as well as numerous local and national newspapers, plus several scientific publications. Unfortunately, the only person who attended his press conference was a student reporter from the school newspaper. The other unfortunate thing was that Dr. Stephens did not have a way of proving his theory. This was certainly going to be his next project.

      But then something wonderful happened. On New Years Eve, as Dr Stephens was working in his office, he received an email marked, “open immediately”. It read,

      “In your wildest dreams you’ll never guess who this is.”

      “Please, no games. I’m a busy man. Who are you?” Dr Stephens wrote back.

      “I…am…you. I’m contacting you from the future.”

      There were a few seconds of silence, then Dr. Stephens became overwhelmed with emotion.

      “You mean I did it? I actually discovered a way to travel into the future?”

      “Yes you did.”

      “This is amazing. I knew I could do it. All these years… and all my efforts…YES!!… Tell me, how far into the future did I travel?”

      “You traveled 10 years into the future”.

      “How is my life?”

      “Not too good. Your wife left you for another man; your daughter is in drug rehab; your son grew up to become an active shooter at your school; and you ended up homeless and bankrupt living in a cardboard box down by the river.”

      “Oh no. How could his happen?”

      “Well, you became a serious day-trader in the stock market and lost everything. Your entire life was ruined.”

      “What about my prize pure-bred poodle?”

      “Your dog ran off to have crazed animal-dog-sex with a mangy mongrel alley-mutt named Clyde.”

      “But my dog is a male.”

      “See what I mean.”

      “There must be some way to keep all this from happening.”

      “That’s the reason I contacted you. You need to change your investment strategy. There’s still time to fix things. All we’ve got to do is place a couple grand on the right investment vehicle. I can do this for you on-line.

      “Hey wait a minute. How do I know you’re really from the future?”

      “How did I know all these personal details about your…I mean, our future life?”

      Dr. Stephens, the tenured professor and well-know astrophysicist employed by Stanford University, thought about this for a few seconds then replied,

      “Do you take Mastercard?”

    24. Emery_L says:

      11, 13, 23, 39, 1, 4

      Pay very close attention. Take this lightly and you’ll co-exist in a land of “gray” for the duration of your natural life. Follow my simple instructions, and the divide between fantasy and reality will dissipate.

      Two options. Two paths. Two fates. Your choice.

      The numbers above are very important but I want you to disregard them. I need you to focus all of your brain power on the sequence of the numbers. The pattern, not the numbers, will unlock an ultimacy of wealth beyond your reach.

      Each number is strategically positioned and rightfully so. Simply put, it’s a key. But any disruption in sequence will flaw the keys blades and you will lose out on hundreds of millions of dollars. It’s very simple. REMEMBER THE PATTERN, DANNY!

      Sorry for screaming, but I know you. I know how you think. I know how your brain works. Why? Because I am you. I know how freakish, fraudulent, creepy and weird this slightly futuristic email sounds to you.

      But I am not trying to convince you, we don’t have enough time for that. I need you to do two things. One, man the f*ck up Danny and two, remember the pattern!

      Take this “key” to the bodega on 154th and Lennox, then pass it (the key) and a dollar bill to Garundo. You will know it’s Garundo because he has a nametag on that will say “Garundo.” He will then hand you a ticket with the exact sequence of numbers on it, ensure Garundo got it right! It’s very important.

      Head back to your piece of sh…I mean apartment and keep the channel on 67. At 8:00 p.m. an announcement will be made that will change your life forever. Thank me later!

      Best,

      The Future You

    25. smallster21 says:

      Buy a plane ticket to arrive in Dublin, Ireland January 23rd, 2013 before noon. When you get to the airport, use your debit card to take out 300 euros at the ATM near the restrooms after you go through customs. Take a taxi to Trinity College Dublin. Make sure to arrive between 2:30 and 3:30 p.m. Go to the Institute of Neuroscience housed in the Lloyd building. Find office 305.

      Don’t be surprised; your sister’s name will be on the door. Go into her office and take the files out of her desk drawer and shred them. Then leave. Don’t stay to say hi.

      If you think this is a joke or you are going crazy, wait five minutes. You will receive a call from your mother that your father is dead. Then go book the flight. Trust yourself, you need to do what you say.

      From,

      Your Future Self

    26. nhope says:

      You never gave up, you always had faith, and through it all you knew you had to stay strong and carry on. You did it. You have lived a good life ~ Amore.

    27. Hey you (or me, I guess…anyway, just read this),
      I used to go by the old philosophy, “Don’t worry about the future, just worry about today.” You go by that philosophy too, I know it. Well, that’s bull hockey. Start worrying.
      I don’t expect you to believe what I’m about to tell you…in fact, I don’t even know if it’s worth telling you any of this, because if you could or will do anything about what I’m going to warn you about, I probably wouldn’t be where I am now (which, to you, is about thirty years into your future). Or maybe I am where I am now BECAUSE you’ll do something about what I’m saying. I don’t know for sure. But I figure things can’t get more messed up than they already are, so here it goes.
      First of all, I don’t know if you’re getting this before or after December 21, 2012. The whole chronological shift mechanism that I’m using to send you this message isn’t an exact science yet (we still call it “time hiccuping”), so all I know is you should be getting this shortly before 2013. If before, here’s a spoiler: The world doesn’t end according to that Mayan calendar thing. If you’re reading this after, then I bet you’re relieved about the world still being there, but don’t get too excited since the Ganymedians from Jupiter’s moon are going to invade in March. You could try warning the government now, although they probably already knew about the impending invasion so I doubt you can do much about it. Stock up on lots of hydrogen peroxide, ricotta cheese, men’s aftershave and Surge (or Mellow Yellow, I think that works too).
      Second, don’t freak out (I think that’s your time’s equivalent to “squap the shanasting gark”) when the machines start to rebel. It’s something to do with a nanotech A.I. device that the Ganymedians left behind after the intergalactic truce was resolved—I don’t really remember, that stupid microchip that they put in everybody kept frying my brain for a few months so I forgot some stuff. Anyway, when the machines get their own intelligence, don’t panic like everyone else. They only try to rip open your backside to find your motherboard if you do that. Just learn some binary code (“10011100100101110001010110000” is pretty universal) and just let them put the microchip in you. It may hurt for a while but the machines will leave you alone for the most part (except for the monthly brain scans).
      Finally, do not eat that shrimp cocktail at the New Year’s Eve party. You’ll puke and look like a total frizpalp—idiot—in front of everybody. Especially Liz, who by the way you’ll have two dates with before she gets disintegrated during the Ganymedian invasion. But you’ll meet a very nice microwave in about seven years who’ll treat you with respect and heat all your dinners for you, so don’t feel too heartbroken.
      Sincerely,
      You

    28. anja_fear says:

      It’s just another New Year’s Eve, just like all the 19 before. I sit before my computer, looking at the screen and passing all the posts of happy, drunk people. And here I am, alone, drowning the sadness in alcohol. Before closing the computer, I check my email, where a mail is awaiting for me, titled “Open Immediately”. As I have nothing else to do, I open it, and am glad that I did.

      Now, don’t be scared, I know it sounds creepy, but I am you – from the future. I know it’s weird and you probably think that it’s a New Year’s prank, but it’s really not. Just take a couple of minutes and read through this mail. I promise you will be thankful later.
      I know it’s cosy and you feel secure in the room, all alone, but it’s not that bad outside. It is past midnight, but there’s still party going on outside. You might meet someone special or get to know some people. It’s always good to know somebody, when you’re all alone. I won’t tell you more, because I will ruin the surprise.
      And stop with the self-destruction. Stop over-thinking. Just breathe and forget everything. Put on that blue dress that makes you feel pretty, spray some perfume on, use some eyeliner… it’s not that hard to make you look beautiful. Be yourself, everybody loves you because of that!
      Now, smile, because things are going to be great, you are going to enjoy and you are going to have the most amazing time ever, trust me!
      And don’t worry too much about the job you will get. There is a lot of time to think in next 5 years, you aren’t finished with school yet (you will finish it, I should give you some heads-up, shouldn’t I?).
      It’s time for me to wrap it up, Billie wants to go to bed.
      Darling, don’t worry too much and let things go with the flow.
      Love always,
      Me/you

      With a smile on my face I dress myself, put some make-up on and go out. Let the night bring the best it has to me.

    29. sprattcm says:

      “It’s over Murray!” Trish shouted into the phone. The line clicked and went dead.

      Two hours later, I found myself at the bottom of my third glass of scotch with a pistol in one hand and a drink in the other. I struggled to feel angry, hurt, or even lonely, but I couldn’t feel anything. As the last few minutes of 2012 slipped away, I tried to decide whether to put the glass to my lips or the gun.

      At 11:58, I took a sip of scotch. Beneath its dark woody flavor, I could taste the ashy bitterness of shattered dreams. I exhaled slowly through my nose and savored the lingering notes of grass and heather mixed with flat motes of hopelessness. Trish is gone, I told myself, probing the wound to watch it bleed.

      At 11:59, I nuzzled the barrel of the gun with my cheek. It felt cool to the touch, sure of purpose and adequate to its task. I found a perverse comfort in its implacable simplicity and promise of absolute and inarguable resolution to so many problems. I slowly realized I didn’t want to die, but didn’t care to live. I had never been a religious man, but as I faced the last minute of one of many wasted years, I defiantly dared God to intervene. Seconds ticked away silently as I waited for a sign that I knew wouldn’t come.

      The clock chimed midnight, and I chuckled grimly and thought, I knew you wouldn’t intervene. Just then, my phone buzzed with an email notification. I muzzily pulled my phone from my pocket and checked my mail.

      Murray:

      First, put the gun back in the drawer, you melodramatic little bitch. We both know you’d never do it, and even if you had it in you, Trish isn’t worth it.

      I have some important things to tell you and not much space in which to do it. First: I am you and you need to listen to me. I am writing you from 37 years into your future, and I won’t bother explaining how because you won’t understand yet. Suffice it to say, I remember looking up to the stars as a kid and feeling tiny beneath the majesty and vastness of the universe. You need to remember doing that too.

      Trish has left you today. It hurts, but that fades in time. In a few months, you’ll have the chance to fall back into her arms. You’ll spend a tempestuous year in love before you marry her. For the love of God, don’t! I was married to her for ten years before we divorced with nothing between us but bitterness and alimony payments.

      You need to spend this time on you. Go back to school and earn your degree – I know you’ve dreamed of it because I dreamed the same dream. After Trish and I divorced, I earned my PhD in physics. The work I’ve just completed will earn me the Nobel Prize, but there’s so much more to be done, and I have so little time left. I’ve made a breakthrough in quantum mechanics that permits me to send this message to you, but you’re the only person I’ve told.

      I need you to begin living your future now. You can accomplish all that I have done and more years earlier and the very stars will sing a song of triumph in our name. Please Murray, do this for us.

      -Murray.

      • handyman43127 says:

        I enjoyed this response to the prompt very much. Great work, I love the way you gave life to Murray, and the struggle that exists between going on and giving up.

        • penney says:

          This was good, yes. God intervened by having him save himself. Nice touch. Quandary though. In the first paragraph, wouldn’t it be “putting lips to glass or gun”, not the other way around. I feel like it reads the glass would go to the lips or the gun. Guns don’t drink.

      • sprattcm says:

        Thanks for reading. It’s fascinating to see what people bring with them when they read. Handyman sees the struggle between going on and giving up. Penney sees God intervene through Murray to save his own life. What I had in mind was future Murray’s frustrated ambition and disappointment in how long it took him to accomplish the things that ended up meaning the most.

        Prompts that deal with bending time like this are challenging because you not only need to be cognizant of the method for reaching back in time, but you also need to have a message that’s worth delivering to your younger self: one that doesn’t engender nonsensical and paradoxical outcomes. I kind of enjoyed this one.

      • justhowitsounds30 says:

        I liked this a lot. To me, nothing hurts more than realizing I’ve wasted time or opportunities, and I think you captured that feeling with Murray.

    30. dzefrej says:

      Opportunity Cost

      For Defoe Howard, Times Square on New Year’s Eve was the loneliest place on earth. He sat in his office chair, thirty stories above the thronging masses, staring into the pale glow of his computer. He could hear them, a dull roar blended together in a constant undercurrent, but his mind made up what he couldn’t hear. The shouts, the yells, even the New Year’s kisses played in his mind.
      He should be down there, too. His friends had claimed a space in a doorway near his office building. He had been looking forward to this moment for months. Actually, to see the ball drop in New York had been a dream of his since adolescence. His first year working in Times Square, even though his boss had asked him to come in on New Year’s Eve, seemed to afford him this opportunity. But something had happened as he was closing his laptop, not fifteen minutes before midnight, which stopped him.
      Inbox (1)
      He clicked inbox, expecting it to be an ad for a website that he was subscribed to. But when he saw his name not only on the subject line but also in the “from” column, he paused, and then clicked the message.
      “Defoe”, it read, “please don’t go down there. I know this sounds crazy, but this is you, only three years from now. Something terrible is going to happen down there tonight, please, for the sake of both of us, trust me.”
      He was stunned. The e-mail, if it was a hoax, was a spectacular one. The address was even @dhowardinvestments.com. Someone had made a server name to make a joke?
      Paralyzed, he walked to the window. Indecision and worry were always his curse, and because of it that’s exactly where he remained at midnight. As the ball made its way down, its spectacular glow throwing shadows to every corner of the small office, he watched in anticipation as he waited for it, whatever it was. Finally the ball came to rest, and the crowd erupted. When he saw that nothing had happened, he rolled his eyes, grabbed his coat, and headed over to the desk to shut the computer off.
      When he got there he saw he had another e-mail. Not from future man this time, just from his broker. It was routine enough, the two, being investors, developed a personal relationship. There was a new search engine about to be launched, something called Google, and he asked if he wanted in. It was risky, but, having a little extra money lying around, he opted to put in a grand. With that he took his coat and left.

      He’d remember the e-mail some three years later while sipping a margarita on a beach in the Caribbean. It had been nearly a year since he had done any kind of work, but, just to be safe, he took his phone and sent an e-mail…

    31. Megan says:

      “Do not, under any circumstances, get into a car with a guy named David. You will survive, but your life will never be the same. In five years, you will be married, have a baby, a house, a cranky old dog, and money. You will also be bored out of your skull. Don’t let anyone kid you. You do not want normal. You never wanted normal. I know it’s New Year’s and you’re lonely and want to go out to brunch with someone on Sundays, but trust me, Sunday brunch with the newspaper is unbelievably dull after about a year. Skip the party tonight. Go online. Sign up to teach English in Korea or something. Leave tomorrow. I’m begging you.”

      I feel dizzy. I can barely breathe. I fumble for my cell phone in my pocket and text the cab company to cancel. I get online and start searching, ignoring the doorbell when the cab shows up anyway. I text Angela “Tired and 2 dprssed 4 party. CML.” All the English programs have months of processing times. What else is there?

      Three weeks later. I have quit my job as a paralegal and am temping as a receptionist in a doctor’s office. At lunch I write my application essays for Teach for America. I have chosen San Francisco, Boston, and Washington, D.C. as my site options. My battery died this morning, so I took the bus and one of the nurses is giving me a lift home. Her brother, David, picks her up from work and they have to go right by my apartment. I admit I hesitated for a minute, but I doubt the e-mail meant *ever*. Plus now I know to watch out.

    32. Miya Kaye says:

      Firstly I want to say that English is not my native language so I’m sorry for the mistakes, it’s the second story I’m writing in English (if i don’t count the essays i wrote in the exams).I’d appreciate if someone ever review. By the way, Happy New Year to everyone! :)

      ‘What on the earth is that? Is someone pranking me?’ I thought to myself after I saw the words “From the Future You” as the e-mail’s title. My curiosity grew bigger as I clicked on the email.
      “You’re probably wondering what this is, right? I’m sure you thought it was a joke or something like that, because I know you really good. Well, you’re right, I wouldn’t believe my eyes too, if I saw something like that. I’m not going to tell you how I can do this nor in which year I’m writing from. They’re not what you should know. What you should know is firstly I’m you from the future and I’m writing this email to prepare you to 2013, the year which will probably change you the most. You’ll make big decisions about your life this year, some are good some are bad. I won’t tell you what you should do. Because I want you to go through hard times to know the value of the good ones. Sometimes bad decisions take us to the right places, don’t ever forget that. Don’t get depressive after every mistake you will make. They will help you to mature and become stronger. Don’t be afraid to try new things, take risks, you’ll achieve great things. Don’t be afraid to apologise if you’re the wrong one. Because you won’t always have the chance to do, use the opportunities you have got, make the people around you happy. You won’t always have them next to you. By the way, don’t think I’m writing these things because I’m miserable and not pleased with my life right now. I’m living a life I wouldn’t change for anything. And I want you to know that, even when you think everything is over and that you don’t have the strength to continue, don’t give up! I want you to know that it’ll worth it. And don’t forget to learn from your mistakes, it’s the most important thing. Wish you a happy new year, don’t forget ‘What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger!’ “
      ‘Big decisions, take risks, huh?’ I thought after finishing reading. I took out my cell phone and dialled a number.
      “Hey, Emma, it’s me. You win, I’m coming to Africa with you.”

    33. handyman43127 says:

      TWO”S NEWS

      Buzz-buzz-buzz, buzz-buzz-buzz. Always at the worst possible moment my phone interrupts. This time it was at a New Years eve party thrown by my friend. It was only seconds from midnight and I was with Renee the Doctor I had met there. She had her arms around me and was ready to kiss me on the lips. I Ignored the vibration in my back pocket and I accepted the kiss, the smile, and the note she placed in my hand as she excused herself because she had an appointment.

      The lingering taste of her cherry flavored lipstick was on my lips until I chugged the last of my Jack and coke and remembered I had a text message to answer.

      “Hello brother.” The text first read.

      Another one of my friends having fun with me I thought. After all I am an only child!

      “Happy New Year, I’ve been waiting for this moment to message you.”

      “Bartender give me a double, I think I’m gonna need it” I stated to the man behind the counter. Somehow I knew this was going somewhere that would take awhile to get to.

      “Willy first of all throw the note away, the one in your hand.”

      I looked at the folded paper I held tightly.

      “Yes she is a Doctor, but she is what they call a sex therapist. Willy she works way to many hours and she likes bringing her work home with her, if you know what I mean.”

      “Who is this?” I demanded.

      “Willy sit down, have an open mind and please listen.” the message continued. “I am you, you are me, “please read on.”

      “Willy forget the Doctor, she won’t work out, believe you, I mean me, no us!” “Willy the numbers you have been playing for so long and are ready to trash, don’t. They finally hit. The trip you wanted to take, first class. Viola, the women you have been talking to over the internet for so long, she is all she said she was and so much more. Willy her pictures don’t do her justice, WOW.”

      “Willy I know this is hard to believe, after-all I am you and I had to believe it first, but it is and I am you and I am one year ahead of you. The year for me is going to be 2014 in just a few seconds. I’ve come to tell you to just believe what you have been believing, do what you have been doing, don’t give up and don’t settle for less. This is our year, wait and see.”

      “Oh, bye the way, the little girls eye’s are the ones that are blue. This way you will know that I am you and share your thought’s.”

    34. I sat in my wheel chair, in tears, staring down at the stump that was once a healthy working leg. Frustrated and angry at myself, and contemplation suicide, I wondered what do I need to say to get through to myself, this was my third attempt to warn myself of what was about to take place.
      My thoughts drifted back in time remembering the event and receiving the warnings.

      Thinking this to be some prank computer glitch, I opened the self addressed, future dated email, as I watched the News year’s Eve ball drop on the television.
      Hi,
      Yes it’s me, I mean you.
      That’s right, no joke.
      It’s me, you; us; your future self, writing and sending this to you from the future. Ten years from now.
      I can not disclose the how and why I’m able to send you this email back through time to you but trust me. This is no joke and there is something extremely important I need to tell you, and warn us; an extremely important event that is about to take place tomorrow night.
      To eliminate any doubt as to the validity of this email, I will tell you of three events that will take place today.
      At this very moment you are reading this, Your coffee mug is empty and needs a refill and it is exactly midnight on New Year’s which is now the year twenty thirteen. You are sitting at your desk in the master bedroom. Have I got your attention yet?
      In about two minutes from now five drunken teenagers will be walking by, hooting and hollering yelling Happy New Year.
      Also to confirm I am actually you and that this is no joke or prank look at this….
      “Echo1Charlie954@#Dastar5Nine Power”
      That right no one knows about this password but you, it’s ours that we just made up an hour ago for the twenty thirteen master password, and we didn’t write it down, nor did we tell anyone, or implement it yet.
      I will offer you one more event to prove to you without a doubt that I am who I say I am, YOU! And that I am indeed writing this in the future and sending it back in time to us.
      In the morning you will awake from that reoccurring dream we always have about our spirit leaving our body when asleep and flying around the world.
      Except this one will be a bit different. We/You will have dreamed our spirit was exploring the ocean’s mountains and valleys and you will have met and discovered Extraterrestrials living below the oceans surface. O and by the way, the reason you will not be able to find our dram journal to log this dream is, Jennifer put our dream journal in the bookcase next to the desk when she was cleaning earlier.
      Now here’s what you need to know…
      Tomorrow night at nine fifteen while we’re working on our book, a major car accident will take place right out front involving a speeding police cruiser en route to an attempted armed robbery at the convenient store down the street.
      Please just Sit tight and watch from the window. “Do Not Go Out Side”
      I repeat…
      “Do Not Go Out Side”.
      Stay in the house, because a gunfight between the police and the robbers will erupt shortly after the crash.
      If you go out, you will be hit by a stray bullet and will lose one of our legs as a result from the gunshot wound. So please stay in the house.
      Please heed my warning and do not go outside tonight when this all takes place.
      When I finished reading the email I sat quietly bewildered, wondering who could have sent this as a joke. Then from outside I heard the voices of people yelling and cheering Happy New Year. I looked out the window and saw five kids stumbling sown the street.
      A feeling of Déjà Vo and fear overcame me as I looked over my shoulder and seen that my Dream Journal was not there on the night stand but was in fact where I has told myself it would be; in the bookcase beside my desk. I chuckled to myself, clicked out of the email, and continued working on my novel.

    35. JR MacBeth says:

      “Sheesh. Goddamn Frank Clark is really going at it this year. That was probably one of his loudest. A shotgun, ya think?”

      “One more reason to move. Every year it gets worse! My God! That one sounded like a friggin’ cannon!”

      “Settle down sweetheart. He’s our neighbor, at least for now. We have to live here, and if we piss the jerk off, he might kill Muffin too. Besides, it’s New Years.”

      “Stop it! We don’t know that he killed Scruffy. He’s a jerk, but I really don’t like it when you try to scare me like that.”

      “OK, sorry. Hey listen…Maybe that was his grand finale. Take a peek here, looks like they’re starting to go back inside.”

      “Good. I’m beat. Let’s get to bed.”

      “I’ll be up in a min. Gotta check my email, see if Brian got back to me.”

      “OK hon. Hurry though, that is, if you still want me awake when you get up there.”

      “Oh, don’t worry about that! We have to welcome the New Year, can’t miss that.”

      They kissed,

      BOOM!

      “OK, now that had to be the last one! Why don’t the police ever do anything?”

      “Go to bed already! It’s once…OK, twice a year he does it, the Fourth isn’t any better. Anyway, GO! I’ll be up soon.”

      Robert was tired too. His neighbor was such a prick, but what could he do? Maybe Brian had some news. If he got the new job, he could finally afford to move away.

      “What the hell?”

      robertclaymore@internetmail.net
      RE: OPEN IMMEDIATELY!

      It had been a while since he had sent a message to himself. Maybe his iPhone, something stupid, a butt-dial email.

      Happy New Year Robert. Trish is upstairs now. No more Frank Clark explosions. Pay attention, this is YOU, and this is a message from the future. No bullshit, for proof, something only we know, you killed Scruffy. Accident or not, no one else could know this. So listen up. You will get the job with Paragon Dynamics. Just DON’T TAKE IT. I did, and my life is screwed, alternate universes, probably this won’t even help me. But, it can help you. And Trish. If you love her, then do what I say. Put up with Frank for a little longer, that’s all. Wish I could say more. Good luck.

      Robert
      PS: Start treating her better. She deserves more from us.

      He was in shock. No one saw him roll back over Scruffy that morning. The dumb cat liked the warmth of the car, and he forgot to check. Could it really be “me”?

      Of course it could be. He was a scientist, this was exactly the thing he has been working on. They must have made a breakthrough.

      “I wasn’t expecting you up so soon Robert! OK, just tell me. Job, or no job.”

      “No job. They went with the other guy.”

      “Oh, I’m so sorry honey!”

      “I’m not. Come here. Let’s start this New Year off right.”

    36. Miss Chris76 says:

      Hi, Christine. If you are reading this then you are at least sober enough to understand the contents of the email. Happy New Year! And now I bet you are wondering what and why I would write to you, write myself, a email. Well I know it all seems strange so I am going to just let you in on it. Your boss, Mr, Shire, is NOT who he says he is! And if I know how things are, he is probably somewhere around where you are now. DONT let him stay with you! He is working for—well, forget that for now! I need you to pull it together and go to the closet somehow and pull out the letter that you see in the inside pocket. It will have instructions on it! Don’t ask any questions, Just go get the letter! What ever you do, don’t let him see that you have it! Go to your top drawer and get the bottle that is there, pour a little of the solution in your drink. It is going to make you feel weird and dizzy but with in minutes, you will see why you need it. OH and before I forget, load that gun that is under you clothes…you will need it! Don’t worry about it, I know you can’t shoot, that is why you just drank the potion….Be careful Chris. And remember from now on, you have no friends. Good Luck!

    37. txladywriter says:

      Well, Ms. Txladywriter, you did it! After all those rocky years of second-guessing yourself, you finally got your gumption up and took that big step forward – out of your “then reality” and into your “what-if reality”… and here you are… all these years later! What were all those perceived and paralyzing fears about, anyway? Did you actually think you’d end up on the street, a destitute bag lady? Did you actually think you’d be laughed at and riduculed by those nearest and dearest to you… all because you took a chance to do what you’d always known you were born to do? To write? To illuminate? To love with words?
      Look around you… those grandchildren have grown to be productive, thoughtful, wonderful human beings; that job you left is still trudging along, but with some other person who genuinely fits the role; you haven’t missed a meal nor slept in the cold – in fact, quite the contrary! Once you took that breath and threw caution to the wind and actually mailed your book inquiry, your life changed dramatically! Instead of wishful thinking, once you finally took that first brave step and gave yourself permission to see where the chips would fall, you actually unleased your fountain of creativity and rebirthed yourself! You’re now one of the most cherished and prolific writers and sought-after speakers of this century! Remember the day they announced you as Poet Laureate? The book signings? And what about the movies that now have all your delightful characters, the laughter of all those children as they clutch those stuffed-doll characters and critters to their hearts, overbrimming with childhood joy! And let’s not overlook the personal validation you experienced… you do have a voice! You do have something to contribute! You are a person of substance, individuality, credibility, of heart… you gave yourself to the world through your words and the world smiled back and embraced the joy!
      So, Big Attagirl to you! You survived and thrived and gave! You lived the life God created in you! You got out of yourself and gave your heart away to the world and to anyone willing to listen, to feel, to think, to ponder, to dig deep and to go for it! Attagirl, Ms. Txladywriter! It was worth it… it was worth it!
      Now get back to work and spill out your heart on the next one!!! You’ve only just begun, Ol’ Girl!!!!!

    38. Melissa says:

      Dear You,

      I know this is strange. Receiving an email from yourself. But if it helps, it’s not really from You – the person you are today, it’s from Me – the future you. Each day turns us a little more towards the best we can be, or the worst we can be. So tomorrow you will not be the same. Or next week. Or next year.

      I know you will be disappointed to hear this, but I’m not here to tell you what is going to happen this year. You think that knowing what’s going to happen will make it somehow easier. But there is a reason the God created this thing called time. There’s a reason we can’t move backwards and forwards along that line at any speed we choose. Truth is, we can’t handle knowing all the things that await us. Don’t believe me? Let’s take a look at last year. If you had known ahead of time that we would lose our mother, lose our home, lose our husband’s income for six months, and lose our relationship with our son because of drugs, what would you have done?

      You can’t fool me. You would have worried yourself into an early grave. But before that you would have done everything in your power to prevent the inevitable, only to be frustrated and angry. Instead, because these things unfolded in their proper time, you grieved our mother’s death and that hurt is now healing. The new home ended up being much more manageable, and Tom found a job he loves. Matthew, I know. He’s still using and it’s heartbreaking. But you are dealing with it and through this you have made several new amazing friends. Friends you can’t imagine living without.

      So, I’m not writing this to tell you what is going to happen. As with every year, there will be happy times, there will be sad times. Do not fear what lies ahead. You have everything you need to get through it all. Enjoy with your whole heart the good times, and brace yourself for the bad.

      So, don’t waste a minute. Live— really live —while you can.

      Love,
      Me

    39. LennyDRock says:

      Dear me,
      Well, I don’t like what I write to you now. But as I got this opportunity to do so I won’t miss it. Not this time. At the end of 2012 you said – as every year by the way: New Year, New Luck. I can tell you: No, it’s not. It’s been the same as every year. You, having plans, fantasize how you’re loosing weight, changing jobs, starting the novel you’re thinking about for a while now. And what do you guess will happen 2013? NOT ONE THING! EVERYTHING WILL STAY THE SAME!!!!!!
      Get your ass up and going!!! You won’t change anything with a “discipline” that will only last four weeks at the longest. That new haircut of yours has been a first step but – for heaven’s sake – GO ON!!!!

    40. LNazareth says:

      The years go by quickly
      The time on the watch stopping for no one so take it easy
      Not one moment can come back
      How amazing is that!

      Sweet, beautiful, sad and happy
      All bundled and now past history
      They are now all memories
      So hope you did things that will make you proud of you when you reflect back on those happenings

      If fear was your best friend it is now past dear
      You have a chance again, infact another whole year
      Live the new one with all your 5 senses and all will be clear
      Know that everyday you wake up things are already in the past dear

      Sweet moments are to be cherished and remembered
      Sad moments are to be learnt from and not held onto forever
      Everytime you or another reached out and made a difference it all got recorded
      So know things change and never stay the same year after year or forever

      Every year is more exciting than the last
      Nothing stays the same and its now all in the past
      Days evolve over and over again
      Choose to make a change and allow everyday to be a surprise my friend

      You move forward and not backward
      Your growing older and life gets more beautiful than ever
      Your thinking changes to a more positive outlook
      Infact you start to wind down and begin to cling to a healthier attititude

      Nothing gets stuck unless you decide to keep it relevant
      I know as I’m not mouthing anything that I’ve not experienced
      If I’m happy or sad it is what I choose to indulge in
      So for now simply be thankful for the lessons the past year has given

    41. sunflower0268 says:

      Today is January 1,2013 the first day of the new year time for you to get serious and do some writing. You’ve been listening to podcasts about writing and have bought books about writing and have been telling yourself that you’ve been wanting to write.Now is the time to stop the excuses and start doing things. Use the journals that you have and start to write.. Look on the Internet for prompts and do one or two of them a day .Try to find groups online people that are interested in writing to and maybe even find a local group to meet with to get inspired whatever you need to do set goals and stick to them.Continue to listen to podcasts on writing and keep reading books on writing you can do it and hopefully you will be able to come up with good ideas and write that book you’ve always wanted..good luck to you I know that this will be the year for you….

    42. Lightbulb225 says:

      To Me:
      I hope this gets through to you. I can’t have you making the same mistake I-well, you-made. Your boyfriend, Chad-dump him. Dump him now or else you will experience the same pain I did. I know he seems charming now, but about two weeks after you marry him, he will start beating you. Then, he will cheat on you with your best friend-thrice. I’m begging you, leave him now and never look back. You won’t regret it.
      -Future You

    43. Nareik98 says:

      My tired face scanned the bright computer screen in front of me with weary eyes. It was New Year’s Eve, with 2013 just 20 minutes away. I was on my own and had decided to keep busy. For the final time, I checked my email. The inbox had just one new message. The subject read “Open immediately”. Suspicious, I opened the file. It read
      ‘Hi. I have no time to explain how, but I am you from the future. Read that again. You from the future. I am contacting you with great urgency, so you must trust me. Firstly, Julie your … ex(?) wife is about to step in front of a train. She hasn’t told you or anyone else, but the debt from last year’s flood damage has lead her to drastic measures. Get to the train station immediately and stop her. Please.
      Secondly, on January 12th the government will pursue a policy of mass rearmament due to a believed development of WMDs in the Midde East. You MUST NOT let this happen. I am 14 years ahead of you and am living in a packed nuclear fallout shelter. The world is a pile of ashes, and disease is spreading. I will be dead in days. The government will eventually invade the Middle East, who will threaten nuclear war. A new Cold War will emerge but with the opposite outcome. Stop this madness, for humanity’s sake!
      Gather support, rally people, “predcict” the future – just make sure that weapons programme doesn’t go ahead.
      You, 2026.’
      I shut off the screen, grabbed my coat and car keys and headed out in full belief of what I’d just read. I had a ex-wife, and later, the world, to save.

    44. beatrizalbano says:

      You won’t believe this. You will deem a prank, and I know that because I was you. I am you (this is still confusing, after all this time) Thing is I’m braking a bunch of laws to send you this and you’ll see why sooner then you think. Important stuff! First, this next year will change everything. I can’t tell you how, just that your grandma place is a better place to be then the city. Go spent a time with her, this might save more lives then you think. Second, better train you karate, and find the old gun you dad used to have. And third, and most important, look up for Kevin Straus. Yeah, the geek guy from school. The sooner you find him, the better. In fact, e-mail him right now, forward him this. He will understand… a little.
      Have to go, they found me.
      Don’t give up!

    45. slayerdan says:

      I truly hope the site picks back up after the new year……this went from a 300+ aweek to barely double digits—and the offereings, well……Hope all had/have a good end of the year. Till 2013,

      SD

    46. Stefanie says:

      I assure that I’m contacting you out of only the utmost desperation. Otherwise, I would never

      dream of placing you, and in extension myself, in such grave of danger. I will tell you, however, that the

      course of human evolution as stewards of the planet will be dramatically altered in your lifetime. As I find

      myself a victim of an unthinkable slavery, I ask that you heed my warning. I’ve accessed a computer illegally,

      and I will likely be killed for my breech of protocol.

      In the year 2020, the planet will be silently approached by a large ship. Its occupants will bear no

      weapons and a treaty for peaceful cooperation between the world’s governments and the alien race.

      Meanwhile, large cities will be infiltrated by the alien race as seemingly benevolent inhabitants. Their efforts,

      however, will be coordinated to release a deadly toxin, severely decimating the human race and increasing

      our manageability. Survivors will be rounded up at every opportunity, sorted into work groups, and sent to

      camps. Don’t mistake my warning – this will be, very much, a global holocaust.

      In 2014, a group of scientists working for a private agency will receive intelligence data leading

      them to suspect such an invasion. They will form their own camp, called Genesis, in Northern Canada. Their

      facilities will be entirely underground and extraordinarily secure. Additionally, they will be located in a

      mountainous region not easily infiltrated. Entrance into the facility is by word of mouth only, but rumor is that

      there are beds for several thousand. Take your family there as soon as humanly possible. It is your only

      hope. Most importantly, thank you.

      The Future You.

    47. Jess says:

      God, I hope this reaches you. This prehistoric contraption can barely function, let alone send an e-mail (if that’s still what they’re called). Now listen to me very carefully. You’re going to meet a man if you haven’t already. He’s going to seem charming, kind, funny. You must not fall into his trap. He’s going to promise you eternal life (scoff all you want, as I did, but it’s true) and I need you to stay the hell away from him. I can’t meet you face to face, the danger I’ve put you in by reaching out like this is already too great. But it’s the only way out that I can find from this terrible life.
      I beg you to do differently for your future’s sake.
      – You

    48. marilynslagel says:

      Hey, girl! Can you believe it? You actually did it! Yes, I mean I did it – we did it together. Those first few years were rough, weren’t they? A 40-hour day job that just happened to be at night plus writing and marketing hours and hours each week nearly did me/us in, but it was all worth it. The upcoming premiere of Dirty Laundry, the movie, walking the red carpet in a sparkling dress are both things you, I mean I, only dreamed of back then. There is only one thing left to do before the flight to Hollywood – turn in that day job resignation, girl! You/I/we made it! WooHoo!

    49. EmilieHardie says:

      You idiot. You absolute idiot. What the hell are you doing still sitting at your computer? You know that New Year’s party, the one Adrian invited you to but you decided was too stuffy? There’s a major agent there. He’s going to sign Pablo. Pablo, who can’t even tell when to use ‘its’ or ‘it’s’ and who wouldn’t know a fully-formed character if it rose up from a novel (not his, for obvious reasons) and punched him. Pablo, who has no grasp over conflict. Conflict, I tell you.
      Get down there. Not the car, there are two major accidents on Northbourne, Get a taxi over by the library. The driver is a slippery one and always tries to scam you (us, them?). Keep an eye on the meter and tell him the exact route to take and warm him of every turn so he doesn’t “miss” too many.
      Ignore the guy with the list at the door. There is no list; he’s just trying to scam bribes. Just walk on through, that usually works. If not, the kitchen door is never locked but we’ve had a fifty-fifty chance of running into Celia and, in one hundred and seventy-nine tries, we have never found a way to get rid of her in time.
      The agent is usually down by the pool, but will be in the library by the time you get there if you fail to control the taxi driver. Whatever you do, do not pitch to him. The closest we’ve gotten is when the fact that we’re a writer comes up in conversation so small talk is key. Other than that, you’re on your own. If you fail, god forbid, copy the email and add what you learned.
      If Pablo starts talking to him first, it’s game over. So, for goodness sake, get it right this time! (Also, the reason why the time-computer wasn’t working yesterday was that you connected the USB cable to the other side of the monitor, not the hard drive, you noob.)

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