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The Other Hand on the Wheel

sci-fi◐ Mature
5 contributors · 5 paragraphs deep

Mara drives. In her mirror a dozen copies of herself give chase through streets that fold and repeat. She spots the dispatch office ahead and aims for it. If she can reach the retrochron's master switch, she can shut the whole loop down. The recorder in her lap clicks on by itself: 'Good girl. Almost home.'

Mara crashes through the dispatch doors and slams the master switch. Every retrochron in the building dies at once. The copies in her mirror were gone before they ever caught her. She's alone, soaked, holding a recorder that won't play anymore. On the desk sits one last slip in her own handwriting: 'Thank you. Now forget.' And she does.

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