It’s for your descendants.
Seven minutes isn’t a long time. Days fly past as if they were seven minutes. Months travel like a bullet train. The way we think of time is likely very different than the way authors and readers and just about everyone else one hundred years ago.
I want you to watch this YouTube video of a film shot in San Francisco in 1906.
Time seems to stop as you look at the people, wagons drawn by horses, streetcars, early automobiles and the pedestrians scatter like free range cattle on the street.
It is because we recognize and don’t recognize a moving picture of the past. Such footage is exceedingly rare. Turn the calendar back 200, 300, or 500 years and there are only word trails creating images of those who walked the trails. But we can’t actually see those people moving, the expressions on their faces.
Our 7 minutes takes will likely have far less impact on our descendants who in 2114—the same distance was we now are from the 1906 San Francisco movie. Because our images won’t be a rare fine, to the contrary, they will likely have consciousness.
Our descendant’s reaction to us may be the same as ours looking back a hundred years—the technology looks more than basic, it looks primitive (how did they cope?) The way people in public space moved was either directionless or chaotic. People, horses, vehicles—not of them look particularly unclean, in good repair, or safe. That’s quite likely what our descendants may be saying how we looked a hundred years earlier, way back in 2010.
A story can be told in seven minutes.
What seven-minute story—labeled don’t open until 2114—do you want to leave behind?
Mega thanks to my friend, author Joe Glazner for sending me the link to the 1906 video.