In part, I have to admit that it’s my fault for what happened, but I couldn’t imagine that anyone could be as dumb as this girl. “What is it?” I asked not too happy about the unforeseen complications. Sometimes I barely managed to stay in the time I wanted for a few seconds, because like a bungee jumping rope stretched really tight, time was pulling me back to where I belonged. That’s why all the competitors, and not just them, call it the Target Rock. The chance of hitting the same second and finding her was infinitesimal, and, as I expected, my search, for there were many, was fruitless. I had, therefore, more time to admire the places or, perhaps it would be better to say, the times through which I was returning, so I could see that something was wrong even before I reached the Jurassic.
