So, anyway, there we were all poised on the very edge of the cusp of just about to say something about it, when – suddenly – the opportune moment passed and it was all too late….
It does, though, doesn’t it, always seem just the wrong moment to say what we really think about things? It is always a bit too soon, or a bit too late, isn’t it?
Ideally, this is a point where science fiction should meet up with science fact and get their arses into gear and invent some sort of device that can freeze, or rewind time, or – ideally - both.
Just think of it, someone says, or does something, that really, really gets on your tits…. Then, though, you just can’t think of the quip, the cutting remark, the comeback that would really put them in their place. That is, not – as usual – until several hours later at least when, in a sudden moment of inspiration, the perfect comeback comes to you, when it is far, far too late.
In the ideal world all you would then need to do is whip out your gizmo, set the dial for a split-second after the wanker did the foul deed and… and… after whatever noise a machine like that would make… you are back there, and now ready with your perfect comeback…
Perfect.
Or is it…?
What if they too have such a machine? The danger is that time would stumble to a slow juddering halt as each antagonist in several thousand contretemps all around the globe kept pausing time. Followed, moments later, by each one rewinding it just to get the perfect comeback in order to win some petty argument about sport, politics, sex, the perfect biscuit or somesuch thing every time anyone said anything they needed a comeback for, and – in the end – we all long for that perfect comeback all the time, don’t we…?
Don’t we…?
What’s the matter, can’t you think of something to say…?
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