Past Tense... Future Perfect

I’m not sure if it was a crazy dream or some kind of NyQuil-induced hallucination or simply me trying out the time travel app that my crazy inventor uncle developed, but there I was, staring at an elderly version of myself laying on my deathbed.

“Hey, nice deathbed,” I said.

“Thanks, I got it at Ikea, along with the death-nightstand,” muttered the prone figure. “I put it together myself.”

“Well, that explains why it’s leaning over all kattywompus,” I remarked, taking a chair close to the bed. “Am I here to bear witness to your final words?”

“Dramatic much?” sneered the Jack on the bed. “No, I called you here to tell you it was worth it, all those grueling hours spent at the gym and all those long miles you walked.”

“Don’t you mean ‘ran’?” I asked.

We both broke out in a laugh over that, which sent elderly Jack into a spasm of coughing.

“I don’t have much time,” he told me, staring at me with those beautiful midnight green eyes of his. “But I just wanted to encourage you to keep pursuing your healthy living goals. It’s all worth it in the end.”

“Thanks, old Jack,” I smiled, taking his withered hand in mine. “That means…”

“JACK, ARE YOU STILL LOUNGING AROUND UP THERE IN THAT STUPID DEATHBED?” yelled Anita from downstairs. “I THOUGHT YOU WERE GONNA TAKE THE TRASH OUT!”

Old Jack jumped out of bed, springing past me. I wanted to speak but felt myself being tugged away back to my own time. I could hear the echoes of his voice in the distance…

“I’M JUST TRYING OUT THE DEATHBED, OKAY? WHY’D WE EVEN GET IT IF WE’RE NOT GONNA USE IT?”