The sun rises another day on the small British town of Mollad, the warm rays peak through the holes in my clay roof illuminating each particle of dust dancing in the air. I know I must rise and prepare myself for yet another day of tedious work but for now I’ll just lie here half awake watching the dust dance like there is no tomorrow.

“John,” pierced my ears as I was beginning to drift back into a soft slumber.

“John Locke get the bloody hell up,” my mother squealed as she hit my arm with a rolled towel as a motivation for me to start my day, I did not like this kind of motivation but I gave her what she wanted a stood to my feet grabbing my shoes off the foot of my rickety bed.

“Good morning mother I was just  on my way to the bathroom to wash my face and comb my hair and I will be on my way,” I replied in a sturdy tone.

“You know damn well we have no water John! You're mocking me! Your father and I are doing the best we can for you! Just go to work. GO,” she hissed.

God says in the good book to obey your parents so without argument I put on one shoe then the other, calmly said good day to my mother and began the trek to work.

*******                                                          

Our town was small but bustling with life at every bend. Goobs lined the streets with their carts of miscellaneous goods selling to the few that could afford there odd items. Children to young to work played jacks and marbles on the dirt roads. Solemn workers lingering feet away from their factories awaiting their opening, and there was me one of those workers. As I neared my fellow emoleties the I saw the large splintering wood doors open and creek announcing the start of my day. That sound was not one that I enjoyed but my spirits were lifted as I saw I young boy I had not seen before beginning to walk towards the same large brown double doors as I. This brought me joy because he was one of the only other workers I had seen in my age range and he was also reading my favorite piece of literature, The Tao Of physics. Never in my life had I met another child interested in such an advanced topics. I wanted to speak with him about his opinions on the book and perhaps that would spark a friendship, something I had not had before.  

Although the textile Factory had only been around for 20 years it looked like it had been built in the 1700s. As I settled in for my day of work and began to sit upon my stool the moldy brown wood splintered off the side and creaked under the weight of me, I believed the whole thing with split in half. This mixed with the pungent scent of moss and mold filling my nose made me wonder if this building was up to health code, but me thinking all these things would result in nothing but wasting time so I turned my attention to my textile machine. As I was about to start my work the boy I had seen earlier closed in upon me nearing the neighboring station and to my delight took a seat. He turned to me and without the slightest hesitation introduce himself.

“I’m Charles. Charles Montesquieu. My God this place stinks my mother is making me work here due to my father's recent death. I really hate factories they're taking away all the good jobs from all the good hard working people like my pa. He died in the factory you know, one just like this, and this blassted job is stopping me from play. Did you see all those kids out there having a good old time that was me last year. I'm sorry how rude of me what's your name kid,” he exclaimed in what seemed to be one breath.

“My name is John,” I said quickly as to not set him off on another tangent.

“Real Chatterbox aren't you. So do you not talk is that your thing one of those quiet goody-two-shoes guys. Come on so tell me something. Why are you here? Did your mum make you to this to?,” he questioned as he twiddled his fingers.

“Well with all these factories popping up I think that since I can get a job I should have one. How is it fair that my parents do all the work and I just sit around all day.” He cocked his head and looked at me like I was speaking in a foreign tongue.

“Well that's just the dumbest thing I've ever heard you're telling me you like this place. That factories are good. Their eating up society. Taking away people's inalienable rights!” he exclaimed with such passion it shocked me.

“You're the only other person I've met that knows of the inalienable rights. In what way do you think factories are taking them away,” I said eagerly for I was excited to have an educated conversation.  

“In every way except maybe personal property! These machines killed my dad and many other people, I would say that's taking away life. It takes away people's liberty because since these factories are taking over people got to get a factory job which is working for almost free and in horrid conditions. They don't really got a choice anymore it's either factory job or no job, you call that freedom and liberty? The factories are just gonna keep spreading like a diseases until they eat up the whole world,” he said heateadly.

“While this is all true can you not see the upside? The social contract say we must give up some freedom in order for society to run smoothly. While I do not agree with some of the things like the working conditions and wages I do think that the fact that factories provide so many jobs is beneficial to the economy, even if the jobs are not good ones. I believe eventually with the protection of the government new laws will be made and factories will be able to actually help society,” I countered.

I saw the blood rush to his cheeks flushing them a bright red, I could tell he was about to angrily try and persuade me to believe what he did. Before the situation escalated I thought of an amazing solution to prove which one of us was right.

“Stop do not say anything, I have a way to see which one of us right so there is no need for us to fight just come with me after work,” I said.

Although he was confused he turned back around in his seat and without opening his mouth gave me a solid thumbs up.

*******

Work had ended and Charles and I had walked a tiring three miles so that I could show him the thing that could put all of our problems in the past. My most outstanding invention. My time machine.  It was not anything what children talked about or read and books, it’s not a big shiny tin with wires and knobs coming out of the top. It didn’t spark and crackle when you turned it on, it was just a small circle on the ground that with the click of a remote control would open up and take you to whichever time you pleased. It was really quite simple to make and I couldn't understand why so many genius adults had not been able to figure it out yet.

After I explained to Charles what this contraption was and how I invented it, I began to explain to him how it could solve our debate by taking us to the future to see if machines really did cause an apocalypse like Charles assumes or if they've benefited our society.

“I’m so ready to prove you wrong you...” charles began but didn't get a chance to finish as I pushed the button.

For a what felt like a short second everything felt unimaginably odd, then after I opened my eyes I  saw a world that seemed to be a place where machines did take over and take away some people's lives and freedom but also benefited many others by providing them with jobs. This trip did end our argument but not because one of us was right, because we were both right, but because on the was transport back Charles head burst into trillions of tiny pieces. I guess I still have a few bugs in the system to work out. Oh well.