A Short Story : A Story?

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He stood in the middle of a small, family-run farm, on the 29th March 1902, something that would be no problem for anyone else, except for the small detail that he was born in 1999 of course. The place around him were people chattering, making plenty of noise, but he focused on the girl sitting in front of him, as she smiled warmly at him. Somehow or other in just a matter of weeks he had managed to travel back in time, in the past that would’ve seemed like a storybook tale, but it wasn’t, it was reality.


His seventeenth birthday party drew close to its end. Adrian Woods stood with his best friend Matt, watching the scene before him. The beat of the bass pounded through the living room and people stood around, singing and dancing. He took extra notice of one boy who lay across his leather sofa, looking as if he’d had just a little bit too much to drink, his friend handing him a glass of water. Things weren’t too difficult for him, being one of the ‘popular kids’, people turned up to all of his events; he never needed to worry about not having any friends.

“It’s been a good night, hasn’t it?” Matt asked, leaning on the living room wall whilst taking yet another crisp from one of the bowls on the table. Adrian wondered if he wanted to build a sort of crisp crumb empire on his fingers, from the pace at which he wolfed them down.

“Yeah, it’s been a pretty good night. A lot of people turned up. You know how I worry about that not happening.” Adrian chuckled,
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