He pays with a banknote that has my face on it. As always, I force a smile and give him his change. He’ll go back to his century tomorrow thinking he’s the only history tourist who’s ever done that. Jerk. Being future-famous is awful.

I’ve half a mind to not invent a time machine after all. The hell with any paradox!

Only—I have all this cash that won’t become legal tender unless I do.

So much for free will!