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Skidding through time


It takes effort for me to stay fixed in the present. If I lose my concentration, I find myself in the future, or in the past.

A moment ago, I found myself sitting at the table in a friend’s house. He and his parents are there. We have just finished dinner, and they are smoking cigarettes. I smell the smoke in their ancient kitchen carpeting, and feel the warm greasiness of their polyurethane-coated wooden kitchen table. I see their smiles, tired from a long day, but comfortable in the evening’s togetherness.

Then I am back here, working at my desk. That moment was many years ago. My friend’s parents are long dead, their house has been sold, and my friend is far away, living a far different life.

I must be tired. Only when I’m tired do I lose traction on this moment, and skid unpredictably backwards or forwards through time.

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