Sunday, 15 December 2019


by Joseph Davidson

When I was young, Calvin and his tiger taught me a cardboard box could be a time machine. It didn’t work for me. Angry, I piled up those books and burned them.

As I turned thirty, life fell apart. My love left. My dog died. No job. I found myself with a Sharpie, scrawling TIME MACHINE on the side of another cardboard box.

I hopped in. Closed my eyes. BANG! There I was, staring at a younger me, matches in hand above the comics. I took them from him with a conspiratorial wink.

Maybe thirty won’t be so bad now.

Author bio: Joseph is the Assistant Director of Storyfort in Boise, Idaho. When he's not working with Storyfort he's either working on finishing his Creative Writing degree at Boise State University or being the head honcho over at Procyon Creatives. His work has appeared in 101 Fiction and From Whispers to Roars. You can find him on Twitter @ajoedavidson and check out what the Procyon crew is up to at

Cardboard is part of 101 Fiction issue 25.

No comments:

Post a Comment