The letter arrived on a Tuesday.
\nThat annoyed me immediately.
\nIf my future self had discovered time travel, the least she could have done was make
\nit happen on a more dramatic day.
\nThe envelope said:
\nFROM: ME
\nYEAR: 2051
\nInside was one sentence.
\nDo not enter the competition tomorrow.
\nI read it seven times.
\nTomorrow was the national design challenge.
\nI had spent six months preparing.
\nIf our team qualified, we would travel to Delhi for the final round.
\nI checked the letter again.
\nNo explanation.
\nTypical future me.
\nI decided it was fake.
\nThen I noticed the corner of the page.
\nThere was a tiny coffee stain shaped like India.
\nI had made exactly the same stain on my history notebook that morning.
\nNobody had seen it.
\nThe letter was real.
\nThat created a problem.
\nMaybe entering the competition caused something terrible.
\nAn accident?<\/p>\n
A ruined friendship?
\nPublic humiliation?
\nI barely slept.
\nThe next morning, my teammate Sana called.
\n\u201cYou’re coming, right?\u201d
\nI looked at the letter.
\n\u201cI think so.\u201d
\n\u201cYou think so?\u201d
\nI almost told her everything.
\nInstead I asked, \u201cIf I dropped out now, what would you do?\u201d
\nThere was silence.
\n\u201cProbably panic,\u201d she said. \u201cThen do it without you.\u201d
\nThat hurt more than expected.
\nOur project was not mine.
\nIt was ours.
\nAt school, I stood outside the competition hall.
\nIn my pocket, the future's warning felt impossibly heavy.
\nThen I noticed something written faintly on the back.
\nI had missed it.
\nYou ignored this warning the first time too.
\nI froze.
\nUnderneath:
\nI’m glad you did.
\nI stared at the words.
\nAnother sentence slowly appeared.
\nI needed to know whether we became brave because the future told us what to
\ndo or because we chose for ourselves.
\nThe ink began fading.
\nBefore it disappeared completely, I turned the paper over and wrote:<\/p>\n
Dear Future Me,
\nStop interfering.
\nFor a moment nothing happened.
\nThen three new words appeared.
\nFair enough. Sorry.
\nI laughed.
\nSana opened the hall door.
\n\u201cAre you coming?\u201d
\nI folded the letter.
\n\u201cYes.\u201d
\n\u201cSure?\u201d
\nThis time I did not need the future.
\n\u201cAbsolutely.\u201d<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
The letter arrived on a Tuesday. That annoyed me immediately. If my future self had discovered time travel, the least she could have done was make it happen on a more dramatic day. The envelope said: FROM: ME YEAR: 2051 Inside was one sentence. Do not enter the competition tomorrow. I read it seven times.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":4975,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[605],"tags":[637,631,634,622,625,626,620,636,624],"class_list":["post-4831","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-bring-it-on","tag-arts","tag-creative-writing","tag-curiosity","tag-fiction","tag-life-experiences","tag-nature","tag-personal","tag-poetry","tag-youth","enable-dropcap","disable-2-columns"],"yoast_head":"\n