The Butterfly Effect
Jose and Carmen sat in their driveway, their backs to the still-steaming time machine.
Jose drew in a sharp breath, producing a loud oink.
“Man,” he said, raising a cloven hoof to his face and scratching his snout, “the butterfly effect, huh?”
Carmen raised a wing to the crown of her head, feeling out the contours of the newly-acquired bump that was there, prying loose a flurry of tiny feathers; they drifted in listless circles to the ground in front of her.
“I know, right?…friggin butterfly effect.”