Loop de loop.

--machine."
Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit.
Maybe.
I step out of the tube, the mist curling around my toes. Damn. Trying to remember just what happened. Brain fart, or something. Actually, 'something' is more likely. I feel like I just was on the verge of something miraculous. Intellectual-gasm. Yeah, that's it.
"Ach! Fuck!" The mist turns out to be the dry ice, which was probably bought just for dramatic effect. Maybe some machine calibrations or something--- Yes! Calibrations! Machines! Nonono- Machine, singular. Yeah, that's it. Damn it, what did I do?
I look over at the familiar blackboard, covered in the graffiti of un-familiar equations. Did I write these? It looks like my writing. It's also covered with eraser dust. Hmm-- corrections need to be made?
On instinct, my mental calculator kicks in. Carry the two, divide here-- And it doesn't give me the right answer as was on the board. I pick up the eraser, almost on instinct. Probably just choosing the wrong quadratic value. Yeah, that's it. There's only two choices, anyways. I substitute for the second value--
Well, that looks right, at least. Huh.
I step back, scratching at my chin for inspiration, memory. I could use a coffee-- Huh. My wristwatch bumps intrusively against my face. 11:52. I look over at the caesium atomic clock: 11:40. What?
What what? Impossible. My watch is set to that clock, always. I turn over to what I only now recognize as my workbench. There must be a problem with the watch. Well, even if there isn't, it's easier to fix than a damn atomic clock.
A few minutes with my jeweller's screwdriver, and the whole watch is disassembled in front of me. Hmm. Everything looks in order. Like clockwork, right? Strange. Maybe it's--Oh. There's a spare battery right here. Convenient, heh.
I set the time to that of the atomic clock, which now reads 11:49. Synchronized! To the second, probably.
But what was I doing? Urgh, mental block. I turn my back to the workbench, looking at the complicated machinery by the blackboard. Doodads and whatchamacallits that seem to ooze power cables from every conceivable outlet. And in the center, one single egg-like pod. Heh. It almost looks like that teleporter machine from The Fly---
Wait, what?
I step towards the thing, minding the twisted electrical tentacles- Did I make what I think I did?
Well, only one way to find out.
Keypad on the side, something pried off of a microwave door.
It dawns on me.
I punch 11:40 into the pad, and step into the pod. The door hisses closed. Misty dry ice surrounds me.
"Oh, my god-- I think I've made a time----"