WHEN TOMORROW'S NEWS AIRED TODAY: Breaking Mandela Effect News

When producer Lena Harper discovers an unauthorized script on the morning news teleprompter, she dismisses it as a technical glitch—until the impossible future events it predicted begin appearing across the city.

SOURCES and RESOURCES:“Breaking Mandela Effect News” by Keith Conrad: http://auditoryanthology.com

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Episode Transcript

Speaker 1 (00:01):
The following is the story I narrated for the Auditory
Anthology podcast a few months ago. If you'd like to
hear the fully produced version with music and sound effects,
I've pleased a link to the full version in the
episode description. And if you're a fan of classic sci
fi stories from the fifties and sixties, or quirky, short,
creepy stories, you'll want to subscribe to Auditory Anthology, which
you can do at auditoryanthology dot com. Tales from the

(00:31):
Blue Line number one Breaking Mandela Effects News. It was
an ordinary Tuesday morning, and producer Lena Harper was already
battling the chaos of live television. The crew hustled around
the studio preparing for the six am broadcast. The smell
of stale coffee filled the air, and the Humma machinery

(00:53):
formed the background symphony of another day in the world
of news production. Lena sat in the control room monitoring
her screens. Mark Donnelly, the station's lead anchor, was already
positioned at the desk, running through his script. Years of
experience had honed his ability to glide through a segment,
no matter the hiccups or surprises that inevitably arose today,

(01:17):
Lena thought would be no different. That was until the
teleprompter glitched. Lena noticed, at first a flicker of text
that wasn't in her notes or the run down she'd
reviewed moments ago. She frowned, tapping her pen against the
console as she squinted at the unfamiliar words scrolling across

(01:38):
the screen in front of Mark. Breaking news, Mark announced,
reading from the prompter as the camera switched to his face.
A major development in downtown Miami, as construction begins on
a new skyscraper designed to be the city's tallest. This
state of the art structure will feature fully autonomous living spaces,
complete with AI driven amenities and drone controlled to deliver services.

(02:02):
Lena blinked in confusion. She scanned the room, but none
of the crew seemed to be reacting to what Mark
was saying. This wasn't a scheduled story. Mark continued, seemingly unfazed.
City officials have praised the new building as a symbol
of Miami's technological future. The project is expected to be

(02:22):
completed in record time, with an official unveiling planned within
the next two years. Lena's eyes darted to the script
feed on her monitor there. It was an entire segment,
fully written out. It read like a feature story, except
it wasn't real. None of it was. There was no skyscraper,
and yet the details were specific, down to the street address.

(02:48):
She pressed her headset tighter to her ear. Who put
this in the rundown? She whispered sharply into the mic,
expecting a quick explanation from the team. No one answered.
The crew members were folks, each on their respective tasks,
oblivious to the anomaly on screen. Mark was now moving
on detailing an interview with a city planner named Manny Munio's.

(03:11):
The name rang no bells, but Mark carried on reading
with his usual confidence. Mister Munos stated that the building's
designed will be a model for future urban centers. Mark
said he emphasized the importance of incorporating green energy solutions,
including wind turbines along the building's upper levels. In a
statement he said, Lena cut the feed. The image of

(03:34):
Mark vanished from the monitors as the screen switched to
a commercial break. She stood her pulse racing. The newsroom
was unusually quiet after the broadcast ended. The typical rush
of relief that followed a successful segment was absent, replaced
by a collective sense of confusion. Lena stood by her monitor,
her mind racing to make sense of what had just happened.

(03:58):
Mark pulled off his earpiece, but they practiced flick of
the wrist, and strode toward Lena. His easy going, charismatic
demeanor faltered slightly as he reached her. Lena, what the
hell was that? His voice was a low, irritated rumble.
That wasn't in my script. What kind of story was that?
Lena shook her head, still trying to find the right words.

(04:20):
I don't know. It wasn't supposed to be there. I
checked the rundown. No one added that story. Mark nervously
ran a hand through his perfectly koifed hair. Well, somebody,
did you realize how ridiculous I must have sounded right
talking about some building that doesn't even exist? Lena nodded.

(04:41):
She pulled up the station's system on her console, fingers
flying across the keyboard. I'm going to find out where
he came from. Maybe it was some kind of glitch.
Mark muttered something and walked away, leaving Lena staring at
her screen. She felt the hairs on the back of
her neck prickling a glitch. Could to write an entire
coherent segment, it couldn't describe specific details. She scrolled through

(05:07):
the logs looking for anything out of place. The timestamp
for the script entry was there. According to the system,
the script had been uploaded at five forty five am.
Lena had been the last person to work on the script,
but she finished it at five point thirty am. The
script wasn't tagged with anyone's user name, no author, no editor,

(05:29):
just an anonymous entry. As she dug deeper, she realized
the script didn't belong in the station's database. It was
as though the story had appeared out of thin air. Hey, Lena,
yah right. The voice of Karen Russo, the station's new
production assistant, broke through Lina's thoughts. Karen hovered nervously by

(05:49):
her side, holding a clipboard close to her chest. Yeah,
just trying to figure out what happened, Lina said, Did
you see anything weird this morning? Like? Did someone upload
that segment when I wasn't looking? Karen blinked, frowning slightly.
What segment? The one mark just read? The building downtown,

(06:10):
the self driving cars, all of that. I didn't see
anything like that in the rundown, Karen said, I mean
I looked over it with you earlier. Remember it was
just weather updates and traffic. Lena's stomach tightened. You didn't
see anything at all. Wait, there was something weird, Karen said. Earlier,

(06:31):
I was finishing up the schedules and there was a
file open on the main computer. I didn't think much
of it at the time. It looked like a script
for this morning, so I closed it out. But now
that you mention it, I don't remember seeing that story
listed anywhere. Lena felt her chest tighten. What time was
this maybe around by forty I just thought someone left

(06:53):
it open by mistake, Lena. I felt a chill run
down her spine. Five four Okay, thanks, Lena said, quietly,
staring at her monitor. As Karen walked away. Lena's mind
raced with possibilities, but none of them made sense. She'd
seen weird glitches before, rogues, software bugs, corrupted files, but this,

(07:19):
this was something else. The details in the script were
too specific, too real, and yet the events it described
simply didn't exist. Lena took a deep breath and sat
in her chair, staring at the monitors. Her mind whirled
with possibilities, none of them making sense. She was a

(07:39):
veteran producer. She'd seen plenty of mishaps and technical glitches
in her time, but this felt different. Outside the control room,
the phones were ringing viewer halls, probably wondering if they'd
missed some major announcements or if the station had just
aired the strangest new segment of the year. Lina stood,

(08:00):
shaking her head. Let's get ahead of this before it's spirals.
I'll talk to management, see if we can scrub the
tapes and kill any replays. Karen nodded, heading back to
her desk. Lina stayed behind, staring at the now blank
monitor where the mysterious segment had played out moments ago.
Her gut told her something wasn't right, and no amount

(08:22):
of scrubbing the archives would erase the memory of what
they had just witnessed. The newsroom didn't settle down after
the broadcast. If anything, the air grew heavier with each
passing hour as more questions surfaced. Lena worked furiously, bouncing
between phone calls with the station's IT department and hurried
conversations with management, trying to figure out how a rogue

(08:45):
script could slip into their rundown without a trace. No
answers came. Hours later, Lena sat alone in her office.
She had already spoken with the IT department. Their verdict
was baffling. No unauthorized access, no glitches, Everything was running
as it should. Yeah, Lena knew what she had seen.

(09:07):
She wasn't imagining things. The calls continued, dozens of them.
Viewers from all over Miami had phoned in, wondering why
they hadn't heard about the futuristic skyscraper being built downtown.
A few even claimed they'd seen construction crews working overnight,
machinery setting up near the river. But every official source

(09:28):
Lena checked turned up empty. No construction projects of that
scale were underway, not even in the planning stages. Lena
rubbed her eyes, frustration gnawing at her It didn't make sense.
How could people report seeing something that didn't exist. She
pulled up the city's planning office website for the hundredth

(09:50):
time that day, searching the permit database for anything, anything
that might explain the phantom broadcast. Nothing. The city's sky
line wasn't changing. Karen knocked on her door and peeked
inside her face pale, Lena, you're gonna want to hear this,
she said quietly. Lena nodded, gesturing for her to come in.

(10:14):
Karen entered, holding a notepad with scribbled notes and a
worried expression. I've been tracking down some of the callers,
Karen explained, sitting down across from Lena. Most of them
were just confused, but a few, well, they're saying things
that don't add up. Lena raised an eyebrow, like what.

(10:34):
Karen flipped her notes. One guy swears he'd seen the building,
says it's already under construction, and that he walked by
the side this morning. I asked him to send pictures,
but he said it's in a restricted area no camera
is allowed. Lena frowned. That's impossible. The city hasn't greenlit
anything like that. I know, Karen said. But here's the

(10:57):
weird part. A few other callers describe similar things, new construction,
high tech developments, but they don't match up with each other.
Lena felt a chill run down her spine. Anything else,
she asked, Karen hesitated. One of the callers mentioned something
about the politician Mark talked about Manny Munho's right. The

(11:22):
thing is. I looked him up. He's real, but he
has been out of the public eye for years. He
hasn't been involved in any city project since I don't
know five six years ago. Then why did the script
mention him, Lena asked, her voice hushed. I don't know,
Karen replied, shaking her head. But it feels like something's off,

(11:45):
Like the story we broadcasted belongs somewhere else. Lena leaned
back in her chair, her mind racing somewhere else. That's
exactly what it felt like, like the script came from
a version of Miami that wasn't quite this one. The
details were close enough to reality to feel familiar, but

(12:07):
just far enough off to be unsettling. She didn't believe
in alternate realities, but after today, she wasn't sure what
to believe anymore. On her way to work one morning,
Lena passed by the spot where the supposed skyscraper from
the broadcast had been described. There was nothing out of
the ordinary at first glance, the same old buildings, the

(12:30):
same familiar skyline. But as her car crossed the bridge,
something caught her eye. A crane, a large, gleaming construction
crane perched near a plot of land that had been
vacant for years. Construction workers moved in and out of
the area, and steel beams lined the site. It looked

(12:51):
normal except for one thing. Lena had passed this same
area just the day before. There hadn't been any sign
of construction then, no permits, no announcements, nothing. Her stomach
twisted as the realization hit her. The skyline was changing,

(13:12):
but it wasn't just that it was changing too fast.
By the time she arrived at the station, her phone
buzzed with notifications. Social media was ablaze with rumors. People
posted photos of new developments across the city, futuristic, high
tech structures that didn't appear on any official city maps.

(13:32):
The politician mentioned in the broadcast, Manny Munio's, had resurfaced too.
He was giving interviews talking about plans to revolutionize the
city's infrastructure with cutting edge technology, just as the script
had described. Lena felt like she was losing her grip
on reality. The script had predicted all of this down

(13:52):
to the last detail. But how how could something that
didn't exist suddenly become real? Lena returned home, exhausted and
rattled beyond ease. Gnawed at her but She couldn't bring
herself to share it with anyone who would believe her

(14:13):
that a broadcast had somehow changed the city, that a script,
one that had never been written, was now unfolding in
real life. She sat her bag down and collapsed onto
her couch, her mind still whirling. The soft tom of
the city outside seemed distant, as though it belonged to
a place she no longer recognized. As she sat there,

(14:37):
her phone buzzed with a new message notification. She glanced
at the screen, her heart skipping a beat. It was
an unknown number.

Speaker 2 (14:46):
Check your mailbox.

Speaker 1 (14:49):
Her hands trembled as she stood up and walked to
her front door. The hallway outside her apartment was quiet,
and the mailbox sat untouched. She hesitated for a moment,
her pulse racing. She opened it and slid out a
single sheet of paper. Her blood ran cold. It was
a transcript, the exact transcript of the broadcast from earlier

(15:13):
that week, every line, every detail. But as she scanned
the page, her breath caught in her throat. There at
the bottom was a section she didn't remember. Lena's hands
shook as she read the final lines.

Speaker 2 (15:29):
Lena Harper will receive this transcript at exactly six forty
five pm. She will open it in her apartment, and
the words will feel familiar, as though they were always
meant to be. She will stand by her window, staring
out into the city as the future begins to unfold
around her. But she will never speak of it, because

(15:52):
some things are not meant to be understood.

Speaker 1 (15:58):
The last line sent a chill down her spine.

Speaker 2 (16:02):
It was always meant to be.

Speaker 1 (16:06):
She glanced at the clock on her phone. It was
six forty five pm. Slowly, as if in a daze,
Lena stood and walked to the window. The city stretched
out before her, bathed in the orange glow of sunset.
From her vantage point, she could see the faint outlines
of construction cranes in the distance, rising above the skyline.

(16:29):
And then something else caught her eye, a new building,
one she had never seen before. It shimmered in the
fading light, its glass surface reflecting the world around it,
but with a slight distortion, as though it didn't quite
belong