Life drifts. Things change slowly. There are small changes that occur fast, surprising us. It is the changes over time, though that make the real difference. It is the accumulation on minor actions that bring down walls and make kings.  And then there’s today, and the simple choices right now.

Nothing can prepare a person for this. I’m sure that’s me. Same body. Same walk. Same face. Same imperfections I’ve obsessed over my whole life. He slides into the driver’s seat, just like me. As I look him in the eye, my eye, he smiles, speeding out of the driveway.

I know I have my keys. My car wasn’t broken into.  I’m brooding on this, late into the night. I cancel plans with my girlfriend.

I hear  sounds outside.

Someone’s getting into my car. I’m about to go confront the guy as the dome light inside flips on. It’s me.

“Damn, bro. Where’d you get that facial hair. You were clean shaven as a Marine recruit a week ago,” the plain clothes cop  says to me.

“Uh… You know. Disguise,” I muster.

I’ve never been inside this building.  I’m shaking. I turn around and speed walk right out of there.

At four AM, I drive by the station in my car. I stop, naturally. I close the door, walk inside. The desk captain smiles at me. Have we met before? Why am I even here? I look around, confused for a second. Then a hand clamps down on my back.

As I am thumbing through my car’s GPS, I go through the recently found section. What in the hell? The North Hollywood Police Station? I have absolutely no recollection  of that!  Nobody has borrowed my car, no one has searched except me. My memories cannot be trusted. When? Why? Who?

Money is a strange thing. They keep making more of it, fewer and fewer people have the majority of it. Did you know that there is enouh money in the world for every man woman and child in America to be a millionaire?  Boy, that would change the world’s problems.

Then there’s pirates.

Dust smugglers. They pick up black beacons when they see them. A doomed man is a loyal man.

I didn’t believe a word of it. Space is so vast, chance of a radio beacon being anywhere close to another ship is impossible. They were looking for me.

Whovever decided that the proper way to execute someone in space was to put them out into the void in a pressure suit was a saint. It absolved executioners of guilt. It provided chance of rescue. Though I have never known a capatian to pick up black beacons.

And yet…

Floating alone in vacuum I always tend to go introspective. Absolutely nothing between my suit and me and the ship. It’s very existential. Now, floating alone in vacuum with your ship powering up and away from you gets a different feeling.

Panic.

“Just switch on the beacon,” my suit says.