Can you imagine a restaurant in my city called The Magic Time Machine that has flown under my radar for nine years? If anyone has been there, I. Must. Have. Every. Detail. Do you smell that? It is the fine aroma of their succulent Roman Orgy plate when mixed with a critique group field trip.
If you are into, well, I'm not sure how to even classify this music, but you can get your near-four-minute fill along with a lone time traveler storyline and a video director's own time-lapse time travel. The comments float around Radiohead and The National, so if you love some time travel sauce with your melancholy, plucky, philosophical, chill-out, tavern-band tuneage, Cold Mailman's Time is of the Essence might be for you.
Lest you think the Vortex veered highbrow on that last link, I give you Doctor Proctor's Fart Powder: Time Travel Bath Bomb by Jo Nesbo. Sequel to Doctor Proctor's Fart Powder, the tale of a magic powder capable of propulsing unsuspecting people into outer space, minus the smell, the Time Travel Bath Bomb tackles Joan of Arc and someone named Claude Cliche. Claude and I are acquainted. Extra applause to Jo Nesbo who kept the same nom de plume for her Doctor Proctor series as she did for her Norwegian thrillers. Now that's some cross-readership pollination.
A huge thanks to Robin for suggesting Midnight in Paris. What could be better than time travel at midnight? I can't think of a thing. It will be my next solo-theater flight. At least my nom de plume is associated with stories breaking conventional time travel theories and not breaking wind. Thanks to everyone who sees something Vortex-ish and sends it this way...