Fifty years from right now, someone thinks a thought. Memories flicker in the small, but powerful projector in his mind. He thinks of long ago when he was young and of all the different places his life led him. At certain places, he wonders what if…? What would have happened…?

Moving away from regrets, he focuses on the places he has no memories at all. The years which mysteriously passed him by and he has no account of them. Three hundred and sixty-five days and none of them accounted for? Not a single lasting memory created. Not one. Did he do nothing with that precious time? Nothing?

Then, in time and space, a door is unlocked by this old man in a chair fifty years from right now. This old man thinking a thought. In a flurry of paper, lightning, and thunder, he is erased, flung back gasping, plunged into oblivious speed backwards, falling with no ground and no hand to catch him. Colors all pulsing and rushing by until every ray of color is plucked from his eyelids and he blinks.

And here I am. Back again, reborn, ready to revise what’s already been written and just needs one final edit.

-M. Peralez (06/20/2014)

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