Demonic Detours and Divine Nudges

Chapter 7: Demonic Detours and Divine Nudges

The stench of ozone and regret was starting to become my signature perfume. One minute I’m trying to coax a stubborn capacitor into cooperating, the next I’m dodging fireballs in what used to be my neighbor’s prize-winning petunia patch, now a crater filled with shimmering, malevolent goo. The Demonic Hordes, as I’d affectionately (and sarcastically) started calling them, were nothing if not persistent. They treated the temporal currents like their personal, cosmic playground, and I, Nathaniel Seymour, the accidental architect of their fun, was the piñata.

My current gig was trying to un-shatter the year 1985. Specifically, the moment before a particularly unfortunate disco ball incident in a small town called Harmony Creek. You see, a stray temporal ripple from my initial jump had caused a chain reaction, culminating in the premature detonation of said disco ball, which, in turn, had sent a shockwave through the local energy grid, causing a cascade of events that ultimately led to… well, let’s just say Harmony Creek’s musical legacy was forever altered. And not in a good way. Think less Bee Gees, more… screeching.