Both

The issue with the darkness was once again resolved by the raising of eyelids from over eyes, not unlike the removal of the skin from an onion and with a similar amount of tears. Seeing the smoking rubble of my house was comforting, in a kind of depressing way. I stumbled over to the remains of the bathroom, trying to find the man that gave me the Shifter. I found him relatively easily, and began to berate him about what had just happened, when I realised he hadn’t replied. Or breathed.

‘Damn,’ I swore.

I looked around. Something wasn’t right. I glanced over the rubble of my house. It seemed different. I stared at the bricks. They were a different colour than I remembered. I picked one up, and was startled to find it was practically weightless, but as solid as a, well, brick. A wind picked up; it should have lifted rubbish from the gutter and flown it down the street, but the air was surprisingly clean. Turning around, I saw that my neighbours’ houses were completely different. The roofs were made of dark solar pads, and all the houses looked straighter, neater and cleaner.

I walked towards the street, and then began to walk up the street. Birds were chirping in the trees, and just as I was marvelling at the fact that there were live birds in my neighbourhood a rush of air hit me in the back, and made me trip up slightly. Spinning, I saw that a vehicle had just sped past, silently. I could hear no engine noise whatsoever. I suddenly understood.

This wasn’t 2006.

There was a vibration in my pocket. Reaching in, I felt the Shifter throbbing gently. I picked it up, and felt a piece of the metal slide up. Looking at it I realised that a cover rested on top of a screen, and could slide off when needed. There was a blinking yellow light in the corner of the screen.

’22 February 2006,’ it flashed.

‘Crap,’ I sighed.