One moment was all it took, and the future was lost. She crossed the road, smiling at him, then the truck tossed her body away.
One moment; he spent the rest of his years on research. The history of memories, déjà vu, dreams, unknown particles, and mothers who seem to know in advance when their children are going to cry.
(She, of course, would never be a mother. The children she’d’ve bourn with him would never live or die.)
One moment, and he finally got it right, went back and stood by the road. “Don’t run Suzanne!”
“I’m coming Tom.”