Piets Roggenkamps Fervent Wish for Snow
In the year 2050 - Childhood Memories of a Beloved Grandmother:
Grandma sat opposite him, her eyes peering over the rim of her glasses. She chewed quietly, not asking her grandson what was bothering him.
Seeking a break from his confusing thoughts, Piet looked at his grandmother and asked, ‘Grandma, can you tell me about your experiences as a child when everything was covered in snow? It’s a dream I keep thinking about, but I find it hard to imagine what it would really be like.’ He picked up his last piece of pancake, a wistful expression on his face.
‘What a fantastic experience it was!’ Grandma replied, launching into her story. ‘Once school was out, we would throw our backpacks in the corner, bundle up in snow trousers, thick jackets, boots, beanies, and gloves, and head out into the freezing winter wonderland. Your great aunt and I would meet up with our friends at Hillary’s Hill, where we spent the whole afternoon tobogganing, watched curiously by two cows named Ellie and Ernie. The winter was so harsh and long that birds and deer struggled to find enough food. So, we would put out birdseed in the garden, and a local farmer would donate hay bales, which we used to feed to the animals in the neighbouring woods. We were so obsessed with ice and snow that we would get up early in the morning and go skating on the frozen pond behind our house before school.’
As she reminisced, a smile crept across her face. She thought about the days when her grandmother would often catch them in the morning, always getting them into a lot of trouble. It seemed she missed those good old days.
In the year 1830 / Day of the Hearing:
‘In view of the seriousness of the crimes committed, I consider it appropriate to sentence the accused to fifteen years’ imprisonment for arson and the attempted murder of Professor Baldwin Keesecrout. Furthermore, I hereby order that Klipple junior, who is incapable of forming complete sentences, along with his gang and all close relatives, be expressly forbidden from approaching any member of the Keesecrout and Miller families within a 200-metre radius. If they fail to comply, they’ll end up in jail, too!’
The audience was astonished. They had seen the judge as a lazy, uninterested man who didn’t care about his manners or dress code. But his mind was razor sharp; he sensed everything and was able to analyse every single detail and draw precise conclusions.
In the year 1830 / Gloomy Future Prospects:
While his grandfather was still busy with his carpentry work at the church, Ferdinand found himself sitting alone at the kitchen table. With a spoon in one hand and a bowl of porridge in the other, his expression turned with horror as he quickly scanned the article from the Rullinger News that he had placed on the table alongside the letters. He couldn’t believe his eyes when he saw the drawings. The first illustration was of a massive wave that destroyed an entire city, engulfing everything in its path. Ferdinand’s eyes filled with tears as he looked at two more drawings, both of them showing a bear. The smaller one had light brown fur and large, fluffy ears. Terrified by the fire surrounding it, it was desperately trying to climb a smouldering tree, not realising that its tiny feet would suffer terrible burns from the scorching orange-red trunk. The larger bear bore a striking resemblance to a polar bear. Ferdinand had only seen one of these animals once before, its majestic appearance captured in an oil painting by a painter friend of his great-uncle. In the Rullinger News picture, the polar bear looked completely starved, desperately balancing on a tiny ice floe to avoid falling into the icy water. The look of panic was clearly visible on its face.
Never before had Ferdinand seen something so horrifying. How could the painter of the Rullinger News in 2032 have produced such lifelike drawings? There wasn’t a single stroke of paint or brushstroke in the pictures, and it seemed to Ferdinand as if he had witnessed them in reality, with the images burnt directly into the retinas of his eyes.
A letter from the future:
𝓘 𝓪𝓶 𝓟𝓲𝓮𝓽 𝓡𝓸𝓰𝓰𝓮𝓷𝓴𝓪𝓶𝓹, 𝓪𝓵𝓶𝓸𝓼𝓽 𝓽𝔀𝓮𝓵𝓿𝓮 𝔂𝓮𝓪𝓻𝓼 𝓸𝓵𝓭, 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓘 𝓵𝓲𝓿𝓮 𝓲𝓷 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝔂𝓮𝓪𝓻 2050, 𝓸𝓷 𝓽𝓱𝓮 10𝓽𝓱 𝓸𝓯 𝓜𝓪𝓻𝓬𝓱 𝓲𝓷 𝓡𝓾𝓵𝓵𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓮𝓷 (𝔀𝓱𝓲𝓬𝓱, 𝓪𝓬𝓬𝓸𝓻𝓭𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓽𝓸 𝓶𝔂 𝓰𝓻𝓪𝓷𝓭𝓶𝓸𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓻, 𝓲𝓼 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓷𝓪𝓶𝓮 𝓸𝓯 𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓻 𝓿𝓲𝓵𝓵𝓪𝓰𝓮 𝓲𝓷 1830). 𝓘𝓽’𝓼 𝓿𝓮𝓻𝔂 𝓱𝓸𝓽 𝓱𝓮𝓻𝓮—𝓬𝓾𝓻𝓻𝓮𝓷𝓽𝓵𝔂 40°𝓒 𝓲𝓷 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓼𝓱𝓪𝓭𝓮. 𝓒𝓵𝓲𝓶𝓪𝓽𝓮 𝓬𝓱𝓪𝓷𝓰𝓮 𝓲𝓼 𝓻𝓮𝓼𝓹𝓸𝓷𝓼𝓲𝓫𝓵𝓮 𝓯𝓸𝓻 𝓽𝓱𝓲𝓼 𝓰𝓵𝓸𝓫𝓪𝓵 𝔀𝓪𝓻𝓶𝓲𝓷𝓰. 𝓦𝓱𝓪𝓽’𝓼 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝔀𝓮𝓪𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓻 𝓵𝓲𝓴𝓮 𝔀𝓱𝓮𝓻𝓮 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓪𝓻𝓮, 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓱𝓸𝔀 𝓭𝓲𝓭 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓼𝓮𝓷𝓭 𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓻 𝓶𝓮𝓼𝓼𝓪𝓰𝓮𝓼 𝓽𝓸 𝓾𝓼? 𝓦𝓮 𝓼𝓮𝓷𝓽 𝓸𝓾𝓻𝓼 𝓿𝓲𝓪 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓽𝓾𝓶𝓫𝓵𝓮 𝓭𝓻𝔂𝓮𝓻.
𝓑𝓮𝓼𝓽 𝓻𝓮𝓰𝓪𝓻𝓭𝓼, 𝓟𝓲𝓮𝓽
‘Wow! I think I’m going crazy,’ Manfred said as he picked up the paper from the floor with a trembling hand. He could hardly believe his eyes as he stared at the writing.
‘The sender is our age and lives in our place, but 220 years in the future? And he says it’s 40°C in March? It’s winter! I don’t get it. And what the hell is a tumble dryer?’
Ferdinand furrowed his brows and replied thoughtfully, ‘I don’t know. I’ve never heard of it.’
‘What could be the reason for receiving a message from someone in the future? Maybe we should ask your grandfather for his opinion,’ Manfred suggested.