At that point, the happy cheery writing was getting on my nerves. I tore out the page and folded it neatly into a cup, along with several other pages I didnąt feel like reading. Together I carefully made two strong cups and put them around Fred, so that his floating blobbiness wouldnąt go to waste. After completing that task, I pulled out some information about the trip from the book, including maps, and the unpleasant fact that I would become a stowaway.
   Checking the time by looking at the clocks floating by, as they do in most time vortices, I noted the time and date. It was around midnight, February 52, 1910. The fact that this date canąt exist didnąt bother me at all for some reason, but I reached out to a nearby clock piled upon some books. I pulled in the clock and books, throwing away the clock and looking at the books. One was a blank book, of which I am writing this in blood, another was a screenplay entitled "The Day Things Went Weird", which I threw away because its irony bothered me, and the last one was "How To Write In Blood" by Emos Emal Yug, of which I quickly read, as you can see.
   Not long after this, the clocks started moving faster, of which some dates I noted: April 20th 1894, August 17th 1873, February 1st 1851, July 59th 2010.7 (I think that one was broken), May 15th 1842, and then as the clocks seemed to slow, I grabbed a conveniently placed pocket watch floating nearby, and set it to the last date I noticed: December 27th 1831 12:42 am.