It is the future, and I am alone. I'm petrified with fear. I've gone this way before- Sterile hallways, frosted glass windows. They all lead to the same place. The windows all give me the same view. Nothing. Blackness. I proceed anyway, stumbling blindly down towards my destination. Where else is there to go? Where am I going? I don't know for sure- The more you know about where you are, the less you know about where you're going. Heisenber g said that. Might've been Einstein. I topple into a void of the absolute value of infinity, as far away from where I started as where I'm going. No sound. Total vacuum. Where else is there to go? I don't know why I'm here- But where is here? Nobody's home. What's my frame of reference? Can I fall if there's no space to fall in? I don't subscribe to a Newtonian universe. Luminiferous aether sounds far-fetched to me. Einstein's theory of relativity got it right. Stretching, bending- The universe warps shape as I approach relativistic speeds. The light bends into different wavelength s. I'm dead before I hit the ground. It's a waking nightmare. I snap straight with a start, my hand grasping my handgun under my pillow- But my once-over reveals no results. It takes me a couple of seconds, as the air from my ceiling fan flash-freezes the sweat on my skin, to remember what it is that I'm supposed to be protecting myself against. Flashbulb memory. Window repaired, locks changed, broken, and changed again. Ransacked fridge. I finally release my grip on my handgun, tugging the thin white sheets of my bed around my naked skin. The dull glow of the clock reads four and a quarter- Not enough time to go back to sleep. Handgun safety on. Back under the pillow. My feet make contact with the floor and I move towards my destination. No hallways, no gaps in space-time- Just stars outside, white flakes of snow against the window, and the soft tap of bare feet on tile as I open the fridge. It's nice and orderly again, just the way I left it- No hand-drawn notes, no crude threats. I instinctively pat my side for my handgun, but it's under the bed. Paranoia strikes deep. I grab a slice of bread, toss it on the counter, and promptly forget about it. No reception on the television. Radio's out of batteries. I collapse into a conscious stupor, wandering the house with no clear goal. I can hear my daughter toss and turn in the next room. She has school tomorrow. I unlock the door to the garage, heading out into the cramped workroom, and promptly regret it. My body shivers in protest. Thin layer of frost on the concrete next to the garage door- Should probably get that plugged. No tools out of place. Car still locked. Keys in the pocket of my jacket hanging on the door. I look down at my wrist, but my watch is still on the bedside table. Back inside. Get the watch. Four and three quarters. No time at all. It is the past, and I am alone. I'm petrified with fear. I've gone this way before- Sterile hallways, stained-g lass windows. They're all going to the same place. The windows all have the same picture. EKG lines. Peak, second peak- Flatline. I proceed anyway, stumbling blindly down towards my daughter's bedroom. Where else is there to go? Where is she? I don't know for sure- The more you know about where you are, the less you know about where you've been. That's probably Einstein's idea. It sounds like Einstein's idea. I collapse into a heap on the wet concrete, the blizzard- like conditions forcing me to shut my eyes. My fingers brush hers. No feeling. Completely numb. What else is there to do? I don't know why I'm here- But where is here? No cars around. Where's the ambulance? Can I die if there's nobody around to witness it? I don't subscribe to the idea of out-of-body experiences. They sound like ravings to me. Throbbing,