What Would It Be Like?

I have a strange, personal confession to make.  On occasion, I enjoy letting my brain go to another time, such as the U.S. Civil War era.  I nerdishly endeavor to imagine being a person (usually male, since that's easier for me) from that historical context; then I bring him to the present day.  That's where I let my introverted brain marinate.

It is July 1863.  He stands proudly for a portrait.  He will give the tintype photograph to his newly wedded wife to remember him by until he comes home again, should Providence safely guide him through this damned war.  The camera faces him in the bright daylight as the seconds pass.  Nearby, a soldier of his same Massachusetts regiment takes a rifle and carefully aims at a practice target.  Unaware of this, he maintains his easy gaze into the camera when the soldier's gun shot rings out.  The sound surprises him but not before the whoosh of time unravels and mysteriously drops him 150 years into the future. 

The rifle's shot still echoes in his ears.  But instead of a photographer before him, there now stands an imposing tower.  What is this monstrosity?  This is no man-made work of iron.  He does not know that the strange structure with a blinking light at the top sends out radio waves that others will be able to hear with the help of a stereo.

Heavens!  Something blurs by him.  It is much smaller than a locomotive.  No thick smoke escapes it.  It moves but seems quiet.  It's a Prius.

With a cell phone, a passerby take a quick photo of him, ignorantly asking him the question, "Is there a Revolutionary War re-enactment happening in town?"  Eighty-five years separate those two wars.  This fool has no educated sense of history.  A young girl nearby sets off a firecracker, sending the faux paparazzo into a momentary state of shock, and the man's cell phone jumps into the air.   

It's all too much for this man of God.  Moments before the confusion might send him into a fainting spell, he is suddenly back in 1863.  Near his boots, the cell phone lies there on the ground.

An image can be seen on the now-cracked screen of the phone.  Almighty!  This image on this supernatural tool is of him!  And that ominous tower with the blinking light can be seen behind him in it.

Oh, how a seconds-long gaze can brew such an imagination as this.