My great aunt and I visited the place where I grew up. In the year 2060. We were welcomed by a lady with a white bop haircut. In her room she held two cuckatoos and a bunch of parakeets. All in two different cages.
After excanging pleasantries she asked us to wait to tell our story until the chairman of the Timetravelers Welcoming Committee had arrived and quickly asked us what happened to the love of her life, Ezra Berzadi. The moment my great aunt and I wanted to answer that we couldn't answer that question, I suddenly fount myself at a party in a large, squated house.
Someone excitingly told everyone to rush upstairs 'because it's about to happen!' but my daughters and I just smiled and decided we simply wanted to stick together in the large room downstairs.
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