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The sound of metal hitting concrete echoed throughout the tunnel, punctuated by the rhythmic clicking of a camera shutter. The Mercedes bounced around, every moment - every fifth second- captured for posterity by a young woman barely able to contain her tears. Her vision began to blur. She held her finger firmly to the button on her camera... every five seconds another photograph for the world to know what really happened.
Amid her hazy view warped by the tears, she saw a blob she knew was the car, crumpling and deforming before her -- her lens followed its every movement as best she could. Sparks highlighted the columns as metal caressed concrete, mystic screams deafening her as the air tried to speak, calling out for help as it raced through the tunnel.
What was I thinking? She struggled to compose herself as the car finally stopped moving. She hid, knowing it was vital no one saw her. She watched as a man got out of a car that had been heading the other direction and sought to help the passengers.
Tears streamed down her face as she felt the familiar sensation of the time machine pulling her away, taking her to the safety of her dark room to develop the latest roll of pictures.
She crumpled into a large recliner chair and held her head in her hands. "I must be missing something!" She wiped her face, time and again, wishing the endless stream of tears might cease, for even a few moments of relaxation and peace. "I've got to try again..." but she knew enough to wait... she was a wreck, in no condition to go watch her idol die yet again. She had already watched the accident three times that night, and not even the knowledge that it had happened 400 years before she was born was enough to comfort her.