Butterfly

*Title coined from the Butterfly effect in Chaos Theory, by American mathematician Edward N. Lorenz. Rest In Peace.*

I'm fading. That is what's happening to me. Not physically, like those ridiculous Sci-Fi movies depict. I'm fading in the sense that the memories that I have had since childhood are getting vaguer and vaguer. This is going to be a story most people will not believe. I probably wouldn't have, had it not been my own experience.

Four hours ago, I realized I was gifted with a power. Not superhuman strength, teleportation or the like. Time travel. but it wasn't as you've probably already envisioned. I didn't just disappear from the present and instantaneously reappear in the past or  future. it was slightly more complicated. I could only time travel in my imagination. And with that it was only the past. Never the future. And whenever I travelled, something minor had to be changed. And whatever change there was amplified over time and led to a more drastic change.

Let me explain further.

It was math period and I was in a foul mood. My best friend, Francis, whispered something funny to me about the Math teacher's haircut. Or it was supposed to be funny. I don't know if it was my mood, or the fact that I found nothing wrong with the haircut, but I found the joke to be somewhat distasteful. I passed a comment in my head about him lacking training.

Training.

My mind wandered to Francis' parents. He'd told me they had had a fight two days ago. I don't understand why I was even thinking about that. That was none of my business. But then I remembered how Francis had said some time back that his parents' meeting had been by chance when his father got into the wrong taxi. his father, in a hurry to go somewhere, had jumped into a taxi stationary because of a red light without flagging it. Only to find himself sitting next to a pretty woman.

A chance meeting.

In my mind's eye a younger version of Francis' father appears, slightly agitated, his tie flapping in the wind, trying to flag a taxi down. He's unsuccessful. Then he looks across the street he's on, and I watch him race.