(I’m not much of a philosophical masturbatory scribe
. In fact, I'd go as far as to say this sucks)
The soon-to-be pilgrim stood hunched over in front of the mirror. The image that returned his gaze was that of a downtrodden old man, one that looked stuck in the past and in stark contrast to the newness of the facility. His head was the first casualty of age; it had been bald for years. His decades old back injury, forever unhealed, limited him and forced him to crouch. But, the eyes…they revealed the hope on the inside. They were bright and sparkling with promise of a better reality.
“Mr. Gload, its time,” the young lab clerk informed him.
He hobbled towards the launching platform, as his mind ran over the reasons for his trip. Ross Gload had once been one of the top players in the major leagues, a superstar with incredible luck and skill. That promise and skill had all been wasted. Wasted because of greed. He’d never won it all, and even though he had become a Hall-of-Famer he was still a worthless loser for all he was concerned. But he was about to change all that.
“Mr. Gload if you would please stand on the top of the X,” the main scientist said from the chamber above the launch pad, “thank you. Clear the floor! Thirty seconds!”
A female computer voice announced, “Launch number three-oh-five. Departure: May Nineteen, Two-Thousand Forty-Five. Destination: January One, Nineteen Oh-One.”