Today I got a parcel. Actually it came at the same time as the last one, just before five, but it was a different guy who didn't say "a delivery for Ms. Paige." Actually he said "from Ms. Paige" and I laughed. I said thank you, took the thing, and went inside. But it's easy enough to get the recipient mixed up in your mind if you're in a hurry, and poor guy he probably was in a hurry delivering so late in the day. Though I don't actually know how parcel deliveries work aside from the fact that they deliver parcels.

So there I was having showered after work (I should mention, we start pretty early to get the stock filled before opening) and changed, and just had dinner in the oven* getting all ready when there came the knock at the door. I said hi. He said hi. I said are you Russian? He said delivery for Ms. Paige, and so I took it. I went in and sat down on the table while the oven was doing its job, and then I realized.

The From label says Olivia Paige.

The To label says Olivia Paige.

Then it hit me (not literally, as I don't think thoughts weigh anything): I had been granted superpowers. You remember that spider I forgot to kill and how it bit me earlier on in the week? Well, there is only one explanation. When it bit me, I got superpowers. These things happen occasionally, of course, but the nature of mutations, as my highschool professor once put it, is that they are spontaneous and cannot be reproduced. He also wore a fedora.

That my superpowers were related to the distortion of the spacetime continuum was inescapable, and obviously I had somehow used it without knowing how to properly use it, or even that I used it. I guess it's like little kids how they don't know how to use their mouths properly when they eat. So there I was sitting at the table with a box I had sent myself presumably from the future, and I wondered, now what should I call myself? Superheroes have all these names and costumes. Or maybe I should be an undercover superhero? Maybe it was my costume in the box. So I opened the box. It was empty.

At this point I became a little anxious and wondered, now I hope this wasn't important. The rift in the spacetime continuum has obviously eaten whatever was in this box. I had divided zero by Y. My incident had forfeited the integrity of spacetime. Things were being subtracted. And so I asked myself, Y.

- Livi

* oven of the future