The day had begun quietly enough. Another patrol, perhaps a few burglaries, some kids with spray paint: all in all, nothing unusual in the life of Sergeant Martinez. Such was the existence of a small-town police officer. It certainly wasn't a boring job, but it lacked to moments of danger and adrenaline that characterized the days of her urban counterparts. At least, that was how she felt until the call came in just before 8:15.
Within minutes she had arrived at the Best Buy where the incident had occurred and found curious onlookers already swarming about the store's entrance. She elbowed her way through and tapped the glass. A harried-looking manager rushed over and unlocked the sliding doors just enough to let her in and keep the excited spectators out. "I'm sure glad you got here so quickly," he said as she followed him to the back, where several brightly colored cardboard signs celebrated the release of the new Dell Inspiron 460. "Officer –"
"Martinez."
"Well, Officer Martinez, I don't know what to make of it. I was at the front registers preparing to open when all of a sudden I hear all this yelling. I run back to see what was going on and there were these two men in these . . . old-fashioned costumes and the employees are telling me they fell through some kind of vortex . . . I mean, we normally don't open until nine, so all the doors were locked; they couldn't have just walked in and I could have sworn they weren't here when I arrived at seven-thirty . . ." The manager shook his head. "One seems rather agitated. He keeps moaning something about 'the vast emptiness which the imagination can no longer people with fascinating illusions' and some nonsense about Einstein and the time-space continuum."
"And the other?"
"Yeah, uh . . . he asked if it was the year 2000 and I told him, no, that that was, you know, eight years ago . . . he's been bouncing off the walls ever since and asking to see our glorious society of love and compassion and equality and peace . . . I didn't have the heart to tell him the truth . . ."
The End!
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