2019

JANUARY 2019

Time to see how I’m fucked today.

When I started at this job, I used to check my work email constantly when I was out of the office. I finally had to stop doing it. It was stressing me out too much, and my wife said I was always staring at my phone. 

An unintended consequence of this policy is that for the last ten minutes of my commute into the office, every day, a knot the size of a softball forms in my stomach. I know that once I get out of my car, walk through the lobby, hop in that elevator...

MATT GREEN: Lucy.

LUCY WHITFIELD: Yes Matt.

MATT GREEN: Manage to beat my Joust score last night?

LUCY WHITFIELD: I dunno, did you manage to get all of the glitter out of your ass last night?

MATT GREEN: So that’s a no?

LUCY WHITFIELD: Correct, and you know it. Same for you as well?

MATT GREEN: Unfortunately yes. On the plus side, if today was the day I decided to bang a stripper today, I’d have a good excuse for all the glitter in my car.

The messenger window lets me know that Lucy is typing, which means she either started typing something and got interrupted by someone at her office, or she typed a dirty joke and is trying to decide whether or not to send it.

LUCY WHITFIELD: Aw shit, tonight’s the only night? You know I only work the pole on Saturdays. Think you’ll still have glitter all over your car then?

MATT GREEN: Lol. Sorry it’ll all be cleaned up by then. You’ll have to fill some other guy’s back seat with glitter.

LUCY WHITFIELD: Lol. Missed my shot I guess. Next time.

MATT GREEN: Don’t know if there will be one. Al thought it was funny until her black suit looked like something out of Rupaul’s Drag Race. I think glitter is banned now.

LUCY W...

I manage to get through the morning doing the bare minimum of work. Honestly, it’s all I can manage after putting in so many extra hours putting together the pitch for the trust fund baby. My brain needs a break. Plus today’s Friday, and on Fridays I get lunch out, which means my brain is thinking about nothing but a quality hot dog until after 1:00 PM. A few years ago eating out meant I’d hit up the build your own stir-fry place a block over for lean meat and veg over brown rice, but since we h...

“Shhhh!” Hannah’s delighted laughter rang out loud and clear as I glanced anxiously at the open doorway hoping that Alison hadn’t registered it. Unfortunately, we were out of luck. 

“And what are you guys up to in here? You better not be disturbing the centrepiece on the dining table,” she warned. We turned identical innocent looking faces in her direction as we said “nothing” in unison – Hannah had been thoroughly briefed on the need for secrecy earlier in the day and I made a mental note to te...

The doorbell rang and just like that the façade of the happy Green family slammed into place. I opened the door and Alison cheerily greeted John. Of course he would be the first to arrive. Probably to make sure his catering staff had set up the food just right. They headed straight to the dining room, just as suspected, and I could hear a low murmur – probably Alison walking him through how she had complemented some of his dishes with some home-cooked creations. 

Lucy was the next to arrive and ...

I would eventually emerge and join the party but not a word would be exchanged between Alison and I for the rest of the night. Happy 10th anniversary indeed.

Oh, how I hate it when my plans go awry. Earlier that night I’d received a message from Alison claiming she was stuck in a client meeting and would be late getting home. I had hoped she wouldn’t be too late, but by eight-thirty I’d given up. Mom and Dad had picked up Hannah from school for a weekend sleepover, and I had made reservations at our favourite restaurant. I’d planned the perfect evening, and in return I’d been rejected. It hurt. 

Hungry, I opened the fridge to see last night’s leftove...

Alison:  Hi, I’m still at work, but almost finished.

Unknown:  I want you here, now. When can you be here?

Alison:  Soon, I promise. 

Unknown:  What are you wearing?

Alison:  Cheeky bastard!

Unknown:  Haha, yes, I am and you love it.

Alison:  Maybe.

Unknown:  Yes, you do. You also know what I’m going to do to you tonight.

Alison:  Do I?

Unknown: Yes, you’re mine. Always and forever mine.

Alison:  I know. 

Alison:  Okay, I’m leaving now. Will be there soon. xoxoxo

Unknown:  I’ll be waiting…

I couldn’t read anymore. It felt like someone had punched me hard in the centre of my gut, and it made me want channel the pain into slamming the phone on the floor and stomping on it, until nothing remained but little bits of metal and plastic. Instead, I smashed my fingertips on the screen to open up Alison’s contact list. I needed to know his name, needed to know the name of the man I was going to kick the crap out of as soon as I knew where to find him, but his name and number were both reco...

It was Lucy who told me something was up. Lucy Whitfield is her name, and I’ve known her since I was 10 years old, not that I’d seen her much recently. Once a man marries he finds he has little time for old friends— especially old girlfriends — although with Lucy it had just been platonic. We were good mates, nothing else.

Lucy said she’d seen them at the Chicago Art Institute. She hadn’t wanted to tell me.

“Please, Matt, don’t shoot the messenger,” she’d said with that nervous little laugh of h...

Like Alison, I had pressing work commitments, sorting out an account at Carodine Capital Management LLC where I work. January had been a difficult month for foreign tax returns, and the authorities had closed in on some irregularities with a major client. I’d been arriving home late, sometimes sleeping in the spare room so as not to disturb Alison. She was working hard too, often not arriving home until after I was in bed. Occasionally she looked in and said hello, but more often I just heard he...

I went upstairs. Peeped into Hannah’s room, but she was fast asleep, her favourite teddy clutched tightly in her arms. I dimmed the night light and stepped back out into the hall. Ingrid appeared near the stairwell. She placed a finger on her lips.

“She’s sleeping,” she whispered. “I left the light on because she had a nightmare earlier She gets scared of the dark and the monsters that come in the night.”

“Don’t we all,” I said. “Is Mrs Green back yet?”

“No. She rang to say she’s been delayed at...

I pulled the door shut in a quick burst behind me, not wanting to spend a moment more in Alison’s proximity. I needed air, the cool crispness of winter on my face so I could think straight, I needed to get away from what had just been thrust upon me, I needed my life to go back to making sense before the sky fell around me and my world started ending. 

Was there any chance this was a dream? I looked down at my white knuckles still gripping the doorknob. No. When you felt pain this intense in a d...

Before no time, I was sitting in a comfortable first class seat of a small Embraer business jet. I wasn’t entirely certain if where I was sitting could be called first class, or if there were any class differentiation in a plane this size, but I was sitting near the front, and the chairs were spacious and comfortable. Alison would say, ‘you know you’re in first class when you can recline your seat all the way back, and your feet all the way up,’ and she was right, I thought, as I lay the seat co...

1995

FEBRUARY 1995

I opened my eyes to the cold, dusty light of pre-dawn filtering through my bedroom window.

But not my window, I realised as I shifted myself into a sitting position in the bed. And not my sheets, either, I noticed as my hand ground across the coarse, crisply-pressed fabric. I looked down, and saw in the blurry half-light—was it the light, or was it my eyes?—that the same hand was intubated with the unmistakable shape of a medical cannula.

I rubbed my eyes and looked around the room again, proper...

There's nothing worse than lying in a hospital bed, looking out the window, and being bored to death. At least for me, especially now. The night had been frustratingly busy but quiet. I'm sure you know what I mean: the typical hospital night, where there isn't much going on but you can always hear someone doing something. The kind of night where you just want to sleep and forget the persistent smell of disinfectant.

As the morning light shines through the window I wish I could leave this stiflin...

“You looking for a way back to your home planet, Little Green Man?”

“No, I’m looking to see if any of those squirrels out there are related to you.”

That comeback earned me a slap from her, but not a hard one. It was about ten minutes before the first bell rang, and most of the other early students were still seeking each other out by the buses. I didn’t want to jostle my elbow any more than necessary, so I’d opted for the quieter courtyard. A lot would depend on what I did and said now, so I ne...

Mrs. Dover had been my homeroom teacher last year, and she was this year’s Global History teacher. A tiny woman with frizzy brown hair and the lunatic energy of a Boston terrier, she buzzed around the middle of the classroom. She could do this because she insisted we arrange our desks in a “horseshoe” pattern, leaving her plenty of room to both pace and watch us closely. More than one kid’s stomach rumbled loudly this close to lunch period, but gastrointestinal sound effects stopped her not at a...

“You seem very interested in geography, Matt.”

I stifled a curse as I straightened up…was there nothing I could do that didn’t attract attention? But the speaker was Ms. Conners, who had served as the school’s librarian as far back as anybody could remember. Ms. Conners was an amiable, fluffy-haired old lady whose sharp eyes missed nothing.

“Well, Mrs. Dover was talking about Afghanistan and the Soviets today, and it was interesting.” That was true enough, even if the reasons for my interest wer...

Lucy and I let the large door swing closed behind us as our eyes adjusted to the return to light. We crossed the hall and sat down against the wall opposite the theater they’d just left. I sucked hard on my straw, the last drops of my Coke slurped out of the large cup.

“You’re going to have to take a major leak soon,” Lucy pointed out, reaching her arms around and circling her bent knees. 

“Whatever. That popcorn made me thirsty,” I replied, feeling oddly relaxed for the moment. I stifled a burp...

Saturday morning I woke to the spring sun streaming through the blinds and the phone ringing in the hallway. I sandwiched my head between pillows and tried to go back to sleep. It felt nice to sleep in without any worries. It was one of the only upsides to my current situation. As long as I did my homework and kept up with my chores, my parents did not care too much about how late I slept.

Moments later, I heard a soft rap at my door. 

“Matthew. Phone. It’s Lucy.” My mom had opened the door a fe...

The week passed in a blur. We spent lunch breaks plotting our alibis, pouring over bus routes, and arguing about potential scenarios. By the time Saturday morning arrived, I felt like we had already taken the trip and I was mentally exhausted. Neither of us talked much as we headed into the bus station. It was too early and I didn’t feel fully awake. Our footsteps echoed across the marble floors. We stepped up to the counter and purchased our tickets. As we walked to the gate, Lucy appeared pale...

It’s Saturday. A day for sleeping in, for pretending I’ve successfully played sick and avoided school, for luxuriating in having nothing to do. The sun is shining through the window, flickering shadows of new green leaves over the carpet and the clothes I didn’t put away last night. There’s a cardinal singing outside the window.

I’m tired already. What’s the point of it all, other than to taunt me? Einstein claimed god is not malicious, but if he’s not poking his finger in my eye now, what the h...

“I asked your friend to stay for breakfast, but she didn’t want to.”

“Lucy doesn’t like pancakes, Dad.” How does he not know that? She came over for breakfast half of every summer during high school. Of course, that hasn’t happened yet. “She says...” what was it? “She says they’re like dish sponges soaked in sugar.”

He chuckles. “Should I be offended?” I know he’s not. I’ve already polished off a dozen silver dollar pancakes, and he’s loading me up with more.

“She’s a strange one, that girl.” I ...

“You were crying,” says Lucy. We’re down by the Hoeffner’s empty lot, where they’re going to build a new house, one of these days. Except, they never do, I realise. Their son gets sick and they move to Minneapolis to be near him instead. He’s in high school now, just down the street.

“Yeah,” I say, and I can see her eyes widen. Twelve year old boys don’t admit to crying, I remember. They do it, but they never say so. “My parents,” I say. “They’re just… They stay together. They’re happy.”

“What a...

2005

MARCH 2005

Why do these interviews always come at the wrong time? This is NOT where I want to be right now, but here I am – stuck and locked into this session. And why can’t they crank up the heat just a tad in this green room? Chicago in March is ugly enough, but do they have to keep the room temp the same as outside??? 

 And what was I thinking when I put on this navy suit? Way too formal for a twenty-two year old writer. But, if I ditch the tie, maybe I can pull this off…. Too bad I shaved; scruffy wou...

When I got to the party things were already picking up. Alison would already be there. It was I who was later arriving than once I had. Music was playing too loud, people drinking, some dancing, folks crowded round tables of wine and niblets or hitting the keg which had to be stashed somewhere. Too cold for outside. Maybe the bathtub.

And there she was — standing alone by a refreshment table which was depleted of all but its pretzels — and watching the collegiate goings-on with a steady eye and ...

"You want more wine?"

"Sure"

He grabs a bottle and tilts it up to her glass.

"Actually, I'm drinking red," she says.

He looks at the bottle and confirms it is indeed a bottle of white. "Well, it all goes to the same place."

"God, I hate that expression!"

"I do too, to tell you the truth."

"It is so way too biological when you are about to eat something—"

"Or drink wine."

"Or drink wine."

"Like a biological insult to your humanity."

"Exactly! But then why did you even say that?"

"Just nervous, I ...

"You want more wine?" I grabbed that same bottle and tilted it up to her glass. I found myself slowing it down, making the time for her to stop me.

"Actually, I'm drinking red."

I didn't need to look at the bottle this time, I knew perfectly well it was going to be white.

"Well, there isn't any more red. These others are empty." I offered the bottle up to her glass again. "Bottoms up?"

Everything slowed down and I remembered the precise look on her face — from before — and it was not this look, ...

"What's your major?"

"I'm between majors right now. I don't know, I'm okay at maths. I guess that's not much to go on."

"Nonsense. You don't have to be a number theorist or something. You could do accounting or something like that."

"What's your major?"

"I'm not really going to school right now," I said and followed up with something about investments and internet startups — trying to leave it vague and uninteresting.

"That explains the suit."

"What?"

"Nice suit."

"I had to come here from work."

"Does anybody still do that? I mean, invest their doubloons in college dropouts with digital pipe dreams? Didn't dotcom kill the internet star?"

"Really, the only reason the dotcom bubble burst is because no one knew what to invest ...

"Matt Green." Alison replenished her tinged white wine. "Wait. Are we talking about Matthew Andrew Green? I know about you — the kid novelist. 'Missed Call' and that other one."

"404," I said.

She turned back and leaned back against the table in a posture I recognized all too well. Right arm crossed and sort of floating her filled wineglass somewhere around her left shoulder. This was not a good sign. What had I done wrong?

"It took me a minute," she said, "because, let's face it, someone who us...

My breathing is deafening. How hard must I look like I’m concentrating on this packet of.. what? Skittles? Jesus. Not exactly a tough consumer choice. Put.The candy. Down. Act natural for fuck’s sake. Shit shit shit she’s coming this way. Smile! NOT THAT MUCH! Holy fuck I am so bad at this. Okay, she smiled back. That’s good! STOP GRINNING AT HER. Put something in your basket. Do something practical. You’re supposed to be shopping.. shop Matt shop! Okay, so what would I need if I lived near her ...

“I’ll take a Schlitz please.” She’s just cast one eye my way. She’s been drinking that since forever; After and before. She’s listening now. “COME on Wheldon”. I utter, not too loudly. I think we’re the only ones in the bar watching the race. Its a miracle they get the channel. Took some legwork finding somewhere to watch IndyCar in Chicago, but I knew she’d be here if I found it. Its her birthday soon and that ridiculous race makes her feel closer to home. She’s squinting at the screen now, she...

“Hello?” Alison peered around her door. 

“Hi!” You’re grinning like an insane person. Stop it. “I mean, hello.”

“Do I know you?”

“I’m erm, Matt..”

“You’re THAT guy! I keep bumping into you!” She pushed the door open and stepped into it, smiling. “Do you study here too?”

“Erm, no.” God I hope I’m coming off as cute. “I came to see you. Because well, I wanted to see if you wanted to, maybe go out sometime. Tonight! Maybe?”

“You came to see me?” She was still smiling, shaking her head in confusion,...

I wasn’t really thinking straight as I travelled across town to see Lucy. There was this gnawing feeling in my gut that things were going off the rails; that the plans I’d made for the future were just going to fall apart. And there was the frustration of being unable to say “No, no! This is how it needs to be! This is what the future depends on!” I could understand the constraints of my mad situation but I didn’t have to like them. 

I’d taken the bus but didn’t even bother eavesdropping on the ...

I don’t remember much of my journey home after seeing Lucy. My mind was buzzing; all the “what-ifs” mixed with a big dose of frustration and even anger. I was trying to understand where I had gone wrong - or, for that matter, where Alison had gone wrong. Of course I knew there might be someone else; in my old life I might have been jealous but this time it wasn’t that. It was all about the injustice, the sense that Hannah’s life was at stake. 

When I got home, I poured myself a glass of nice Sco...

2019

MAY 2019

“What are you staring at?” 

I watched her stroll across the restaurant after the hostess, flashing a smile when she motioned towards the table. She placed a menu in front of her, her lips moved to answer the same question they ask every customer before she walks off. 

“Can I bring you something to drink?” 

Are they given special training on how to be bubbly and energetic when they ask such a question or do employers have a reference manual on how to scout out personalities that will fit with thi...

The movie was a brilliant idea. No conversation, no chance for me to bring up something she wouldn’t recollect. Like our life together, our seven-year-old daughter, our house, the millions we’d have to split if she followed through with the divorce. A life I need to forget. I’m getting my do over. Even if it means missing my little girl.  

When we talked, we discussed her career, how it felt when my first book became a bestseller. She asked if I get recognized often, causing me to laugh since no...

We drove to new Ali’s apartment. Penny didn’t like this kind of driving: her engine balked at low speeds. She’d much rather be out on the highway, or on the track.

As usual, Ali constantly gave directions that I mostly didn’t need. Loving her meant accepting her back-seat driving; that would never change. Had never changed. Well, hadn’t changed in the past. Maybe this time around she would be different.

“It’s coming up on the left. Hard to find; there, see the driveway?”

I turned left into the d...

As I stood outside of Lucy's apartment, staring at the modern and forbidding black door, I wondered how a man who was lucky enough to live twice could screw up both lifetimes. That's what I'd done. I knew it now. I had been so focused on Alison that I hadn't realised I was heading for disaster again. And then it had struck.

It hurt. It hurt a lot. That's how I'd ended up here. Everything else had fallen apart, but there was always Lucy. Lucy was the one constant I could always count on, and I re...

Imagine an aircraft hitting a mountain. The sound of its grinding destruction. We only ever see the terrible aftermath, and that’s enough to stuff our imagination with the terror. All of these things happened in my head when Wilma switched on the vacuum.

“You need to get your ass into gear,” Wilma yelled over the din, stabbing a finger at me. “Get your ass off that couch, and yourself out of here. You hear me young fellah?”

Wilma had been my backstop and partner in survival for the past ten year...

Within an hour, showered and fed, I was round at Clive’s house cooking up Wilma’s Lucy recipe. Clive and I had known each other since school, and it was together at our first startup that we made our first million. Between us, we knew every tech entrepreneur worth their salt. We’d mentored most, invested in many, and sat on the boards of a few. We made money together, mostly, but underneath we retained a love for exploiting tech in crazy ways. We knew the best would be up for a challenge. The id...

On the day of the Grand Tour, the sun rose and remained the only blemish in the blue sky. Then, half an hour before midday, an autonomous stretched limo rolled up my drive and threw open a rear door.

The car had been built by Billy’s company, Snesla, which specialised in multipurpose autonomous vehicles. A young genius, eager to break new ground, and with an uncontainable ego, Billy was central to the success of the Grand Tour, and he planned to squeeze everything he could from it. It was hard t...

“You really like this place, don’t you, Matt?”

“I’m sorry?”

What with the susurrus of conversation, the clinking of glassware and cutlery, and the frequent barks of laughter from a table to our left, I was finding it had to concentrate.

“You like it here,” Charlotte said. “At Ink.”

I raised an eyebrow.

“Where we are eating, dunderhead. For goodness sake wake up, Matt.”

“Ah. Sorry, Charlie. I was miles away. But to answer your question, of course I do. I wouldn’t take you here so often if I didn’...

I disrobed, and had a swim. Recently, swimming had become a way to escape the dark thoughts that had begun to bother me as the anniversary of my ‘do-over’ fast approached. In the water the ennui I suffered seemed to evaporate. I felt more like my usual self and less like the subject of some weird experiment the universe had decided to conduct.

When I’d arrived back with the mind of a thirty six year old in the pre-pubescent body of a twelve year old I’d had a lot of conflicting thoughts and idea...

The irony that I lived within The Chicago Loop had never left me. I pondered the fact as I made my way down to the office of Tim Rothwell, Psychiatrist to the rich and famous of Chicago. From the moment Lucy had introduced us Tim had always made time to see me whenever I had asked it of him. To begin with I’d blathered on about my parents and childhood, which, I’d read, was the meat and potatoes favoured by all the best psychiatrists. 

Once I’d talked myself horse over the course of a couple of ...

2019

JANUARY 2019

“It was at times like this that I wished I had been anything other than an accountant, I could have been a lawyer, or maybe a teacher, even an explorer, anything but a dammed accountant.” Taps on the window pull my attention away from work, the scene outside mesmerises for a moment, making any anger and frustration temporary forgotten. Snow flurries racing across the sky gather momentum and through the pane the whole of the Chicago Skyline appears covered in an ever-thickening dusting of snow. K...

I still woke up early, even though I’d been sure that the alarm was turned off. Damn biological clock. I lay in bed a few minutes, trying to pretend I could actually fall back asleep. Almost half an hour later I sighed and rolled over. It was a quick movement, so sudden I almost could have missed it. Alison’s eyes had been open, but as she came into view, her eyelids dropped shut. Her face remained impassive, and she breathed gently. Pretending to be still asleep.

I stared at her to remind mysel...

I went down to the kitchen after a hot shower and a shave. Alison was just putting a plate of steaming eggs on the table. When Hannah saw me she jumped over to me with the excitement that only a seven-year-old girl can have. “Daddy! The party’s tonight! Are you sure you invited Shiloh’s mum and step dad?”

I smiled down at her. “Yes, Hannah. Shiloh’s parents have been invited. They said they’re planning to be here.”

“Yea! Yea! Yea! Shiloh’s coming tonight!” She hopped up and down. I wrapped her i...

I tightened the last screw and looked over at Hannah. “Now we get to find out if daddy did this right. You ready to try it out?”

“Yeah!” Hannah yelled.

“Are you sure? Because if I did it wrong and this swing breaks again, you could end up falling all the way to My Little Pony Land.”

Her eyes widened. “Well now I hope you did it wrong!”

I laughed and picked her up, setting her down gently on the swing. I looked around dramatically, then swung her with pretend caution. “Well,” I said. “No wormhole...

“Well, congratulations Matt, Alison. Ten years already! That’s quite the feat.”

I shook John’s hand and smiled at him. “Thanks.”

“How’s the restaurant?” Alison asked.

“Oh you know,” John said. “Hot as usual.”

Alison smiled. “Hot’s good in January, right?”

“I suppose so. Except that I sweat in the kitchen then step outside and turn into an ice pop.” John looked around the room at all our guests and asked, “How’s the accounting? You’re getting busy, right? Tax season and all that.”

“Oh…” Alison sa...

He had promised himself he wouldn’t keep score. But he was keeping score.

This was the third time she’d said she wouldn’t be home for dinner this month. The fifth in the last six weeks. And she had cancelled a couple of times when he’d offered to do something together. 

At home, she always said she was tired when he proposed sex. It was variations of ’We’re having a tough time right now at work’, but the dry spell went from weeks to months and now he was gauging her answers based on how convinci...

You know, I’m not really sure what I thought it would accomplish. I was thinking of a romantic dinner at Tony’s; I tell her I’ve found out about her affair… And then… what? Did I expect her to repent: “I’m so sorry; how could I have done this to wonderful you? How could I think of leaving our ideal marriage?! Please forgive me.”? Yeah, right.

But yeah, stupid romanticist me — maybe there was a bit of that hope. Or maybe the hope I’d get a clearer idea of what we’d broken in our relationship and ...

I pulled the door shut in a quick burst behind me, not wanting to spend a moment more in Alison’s proximity. I needed air, the cool crispness of winter on my face so I could think straight, I needed to get away from what had just been thrust upon me, I needed my life to go back to making sense before the sky fell around me and my world started ending. 

Was there any chance this was a dream? I looked down at my white knuckles still gripping the doorknob. No. When you felt pain this intense in a d...

Before no time, I was sitting in a comfortable first class seat of a small Embraer business jet. I wasn’t entirely certain if where I was sitting could be called first class, or if there were any class differentiation in a plane this size, but I was sitting near the front, and the chairs were spacious and comfortable. Alison would say, ‘you know you’re in first class when you can recline your seat all the way back, and your feet all the way up,’ and she was right, I thought, as I lay the seat co...

1995

FEBRUARY 1995

Something didn’t smell right.

I opened my mouth and a stream of tasteless, odourless foam with the consistency of coagulated milk pumped through my throat, streamed urgently around tooth and tongue, down chin and chest to splatter thick between my bare feet. I found myself not horrified, but marvelling at the quantity of granular black and red matter accumulating on the floor. Giddy with rare pleasure, a wholly unexpected sense that if one continues for much longer, they will decant their entire...

I came awake from a feverish sequence of noticed things going on around me, events jumbled out of order, oftentimes dubiously mixed in with dreams. Things were being said around me, but they didn’t seem to matter. I felt my foot being stretched at one point. Clipboards clicking. Where were all of their computer screens and tablets?

As some medically induced naps do, my confused state collapsed swiftly and cleanly. Moments later I was awake, and felt more alert and capable than I had in years. As...

I wasn’t sure whether to call them days, my periods of strange lucidity, but it gave me a certain comfort to think of them that way. This time I awoke to silence. It had grown darker outside, and only a feeble dash of pink light still stained the wall. I smiled at the memory of yesterday’s glory, and gingerly went through the act of sitting up.

I began to examine myself. I’d gone from horror to acceptance to a powerful need to understand. I thought to proceed about it in a meticulous fashion, th...

There was a sharp pounding in the back of my head, threatening to split it into two. As I shifted, I became very, very aware of just how painfully my entire body ached, and it seemed as if there were cotton balls stuck right in my throat, giving it a scratchy, parched feeling. It was like having a particularly nasty hangover combined with the aftermath of an intense workout.

As I lied on what seemed to be a bed, just taking it all in and gently rubbed my temple to coax the pain into something du...

Monday morning came round, and there was no escaping the awful truth. I was going to have to go to school. It had been pretty shit the first time round, and I really couldn’t see how it would be any better on a second attempt.

I tried, I really did. Headache. Sore throat. A fake sneeze. But Mom wasn’t having any of it, just like before.

“Matthew, you know you have to go back,” she said, in that whiney voice used by adults when they have complete moral certainty and, more importantly, all of the ...

Having survived the usual morning rituals – which came flooding back to me even as I lived through them – we had our first class of the day, math.

It would be fair to say that I was almost looking forward to this, my first real test of how much I had remembered from Before.

Quite a lot, it turned out.

Our teacher, Mrs Hermanez, had a knack of making simple things seem complicated, and her explanation of the methods for solving equations involving inequalities had most of the class scratching the...

After lunch, I was hanging around with the kids in the yard. Johnny, Manuel, Mikey, and a tall kid whose name I hadn’t caught up with yet. It felt strangely familiar as we talked about baseball (or rather the absence thereof) and basketball and other subjects expressly designed to exclude the girls.

Lucy, therefore, was elsewhere, in a group of her own. Every now and then I caught a glimpse of her looking in my direction as if checking up on me. I could only afford to give her the very fleetest ...

“ARG! Walk the plank!” Lucy moved my Lego™ pirate figure down across the Lego™ ship we built from the kit mom and dad got me for my birthday. 

“Damn it Lucy!” I was so frustrated I actually spit a little at her. This wasn’t the hardest thing for her to understand

“You know your parents don’t let you talk like that! They talk about your uncle and say ‘you will just as bad as George is!’ but I don’t know what’s so bad about your uncle George.” I knew she was right. But if she knew what they found ...

It’s Saturday. A day for sleeping in, for pretending I’ve successfully played sick and avoided school, for luxuriating in having nothing to do. The sun is shining through the window, flickering shadows of new green leaves over the carpet and the clothes I didn’t put away last night. There’s a cardinal singing outside the window.

I’m tired already. What’s the point of it all, other than to taunt me? Einstein claimed god is not malicious, but if he’s not poking his finger in my eye now, what the h...

“I asked your friend to stay for breakfast, but she didn’t want to.”

“Lucy doesn’t like pancakes, Dad.” How does he not know that? She came over for breakfast half of every summer during high school. Of course, that hasn’t happened yet. “She says...” what was it? “She says they’re like dish sponges soaked in sugar.”

He chuckles. “Should I be offended?” I know he’s not. I’ve already polished off a dozen silver dollar pancakes, and he’s loading me up with more.

“She’s a strange one, that girl.” I ...

“You were crying,” says Lucy. We’re down by the Hoeffner’s empty lot, where they’re going to build a new house, one of these days. Except, they never do, I realise. Their son gets sick and they move to Minneapolis to be near him instead. He’s in high school now, just down the street.

“Yeah,” I say, and I can see her eyes widen. Twelve year old boys don’t admit to crying, I remember. They do it, but they never say so. “My parents,” I say. “They’re just… They stay together. They’re happy.”

“What a...

2005

MARCH 2005

I stared at myself in the mirror. The young man in the reflection was beginning to look like me even though his body was still only 22 years old. The person looking out of those 22 year old eyes was me. I figured I had to be about 46 now: 36 when I had the accident, plus the 10 years since I woke up as a 12 year old. I still haven’t reconciled going through adolescence twice, it does my head in. 

At least I had some idea what was going on the second time around. But while that helped a little, i...

I was on the way to the TV station when my agent called. 

I was expecting Cheryl to say something about the interview, and almost didn’t take the call. I was already so nervous, I didn’t think I could remember any of the things I was sure she would tell me to say. I’d been a middle class accountant and then a teenage author – what did I know about TV interviews? I was worried I’d forget the names of my own books, or piss on my shoes at the urinal. I couldn’t take on anything new that Cheryl woul...

Oddly, Cheryl’s call worked. Or maybe it was the suit. Either way, by the time my cab arrived at the TV network my anxiety was gone. I was still as hyped as a cat on speed, but without the doubts and questions I’d had before the call. 

I vaguely remember arriving at the studio, being introduced to Steven O’Reilly, then staring blankly at the wall reflected in the mirror while they applied TV makeup. I don’t remember what I was thinking, other than my mind was buzzing. But that changed when I ent...

INDENT

It’s a pleasure to welcome to tonight’s show one of the hottest young authors around. Matthew Green is only 22 years old, but already has two best-sellers to his name. His first book, “Missed Call” was a stunning success, it’s nuanced exploration of the impact of mobile phones on our relationships and culture is already proving to be eerily prescient. But what lifts the book beyond clever prognostications is the beautiful relationships it contains, and a feeling of warm nostalgia for the landlin...

It was a dream introduction. I knew that Steven had like the novels — Cheryl had shared transcripts of his early reviews — but I didn’t think he’d liked them this much. It seemed that getting funding for a film meant selling the author as much as his books.

INDENT

Most remarkable of all, Matt is here tonight to discuss his third novel, “Democracy’s End”, due to be released next month. So Matt, welcome to the “Meet the Author”. 

It’s a pleasure to be here Steven.

Before we discuss “Democracy’s End”, could we talk a bit about your first two novels?

Of course.

Is there any truth to the rumour that “Missed Call” is going to be made into a movie? 

There have been several queries about converting Missed Call into a film, and I believe a major studio is working ...

In a moment, I decided to wrap the unbelievable truth in a believable lie.

INDENT

I use a process that I guess I developed with Missed Call. I imagine people like me using technology and then push myself to think beyond just me and my friends, and to think what would happen if it was everyone. And if it was, how would technology companies respond? I keep repeating that process over and over with different aspects of society, exploring how it it all interrelates. Always, I imagine myself in that world, until it’s so real it’s like a memory. And then I finish by imagining that ...

There was more of course, and I was perhaps lucky that I had a interviewer with had a vested interest in helping me look good. But by the time we’d finished I’d moved from still being considered a “young writer of soft science fiction” to an author of substance and insight. My future, it seemed, was bright.

I left as the cameras were off. I had to be somewhere even more important, and time was ticking…

We talked about today when we came home from Alison’s tenth year reunion. She was feeling wistful that night, I guess.

“That was your glory day, do you know that?”

“What, because I met you? I mean, granted, that was very important in our lives, for sure.”

“I don’t mean that, Matt. I mean you were at your peak, the most charming, the most charismatic you’ve ever been. Like, you’re not charismatic at all, but that night you were dancing with everybody, and laughing. You’d move from group to group ...

When I was coming in through the threshold I heard steps behind me, so I held the door open. This voice came from behind, saying “thanks, man”, and I suddenly realised that going to the party had been an awful idea. I turned around and saw Scott Cliff. He was looking for a place out of the way where he could leave his helmet. So he already had the motorbike.

Memory is amazing, I wouldn’t have thought in a million years that I would recognise Scott Cliff’s voice. I never knew him that much when h...

My breathing is deafening. How hard must I look like I’m concentrating on this packet of.. what? Skittles? Jesus. Not exactly a tough consumer choice. Put.The candy. Down. Act natural for fuck’s sake. Shit shit shit she’s coming this way. Smile! NOT THAT MUCH! Holy fuck I am so bad at this. Okay, she smiled back. That’s good! STOP GRINNING AT HER. Put something in your basket. Do something practical. You’re supposed to be shopping.. shop Matt shop! Okay, so what would I need if I lived near her ...

“I’ll take a Schlitz please.” She’s just cast one eye my way. She’s been drinking that since forever; After and before. She’s listening now. “COME on Wheldon”. I utter, not too loudly. I think we’re the only ones in the bar watching the race. Its a miracle they get the channel. Took some legwork finding somewhere to watch IndyCar in Chicago, but I knew she’d be here if I found it. Its her birthday soon and that ridiculous race makes her feel closer to home. She’s squinting at the screen now, she...

“Hello?” Alison peered around her door. 

“Hi!” You’re grinning like an insane person. Stop it. “I mean, hello.”

“Do I know you?”

“I’m erm, Matt..”

“You’re THAT guy! I keep bumping into you!” She pushed the door open and stepped into it, smiling. “Do you study here too?”

“Erm, no.” God I hope I’m coming off as cute. “I came to see you. Because well, I wanted to see if you wanted to, maybe go out sometime. Tonight! Maybe?”

“You came to see me?” She was still smiling, shaking her head in confusion,...

A typical spring flurry began as I hurried across the quad toward the university cafe. 

The door was nearly wrenched from my hand as a sudden gust of wind tried to push it closed again. Once inside, rubbing my hands together, I scanned the room as I breathed in the familiar scent of the coffee shop. So many years spent in this place. Waiting. 

This time I was waiting for Lucy. 

Lucy would be late. She was always late. 

But Alison might be there with her friends. 

My gorgeous Alison. 

God, how I ...

2019

MAY 2019

I walked through the door of Stella’s at the tail-end of the lunch rush and spied Lucy at a table half-way back. The waitress deposited two steaming plates before I could get there. 

“Hey, Luce, sorry I’m late.” I gave her a quick squeeze and a peck on the cheek then settled in. “Thanks for ordering.”

She shrugged it off with a smile. “How’d the call go?”

It was my turn to shrug. “We’ll see.”

“Ah, things not turning out as expected?” Her face had that same mix of amusement and feigned surprised ...

The crowd was dwindling, our own conversation heading toward its end, when the door opened and the May wind blew in a heavenly vision of a woman—near-blond, athletic, eyes of haunting blue, and draped in a business suit that exuded personal conference in spades. She looked familiar, but I couldn’t place her face. 

When the hostess led her to a booth in the back of the diner, a closer look confirmed her heavenliness, but provided no extra clues about who she might be.

Halfway through lunch, the pieces clicked into place with such force that I felt like my head and my heart were suddenly squeezed in a vice. I looked at where the woman sat—once, twice, finally a third time. She was older, her hair was a different style than I’d ever seen, but the emotional surge in my heart confirmed it was her: Alison—at least this Alison from this timeline.

“Matt? Matty?” 

I looked back at Lucy.

“You haven’t heard a single word I’ve said in the last five minutes.”

“Sorry, I’ve just gotten a little distracted.” I stole a quick glance back to the woman. Could it really be Alison, now, after all these years, and here? What were the odds?

Lucy followed my gaze. “So who is she?”

“I’m pretty sure it’s Alison.”

Lucy glanced at the woman, no doubt summoning her memories of Alison from the old timeline—the dinner parties, the outings, our engagement party a...

For the next 15 minutes, I tried to focus on my conversation with Lucy. But my mind kept returning to Alison—this Alison. Lucy was right—my initial, foolish reaction had nothing to do with an apology. I was twenty-two again, struggling with the concept that while this woman was Alison, at the same time she wasn’t, different in numerous small and subtle ways that, in combination produced a woman who was not my Alison, one who I could, hopefully, marry again and start over. I’d gotten love-stupid,...

Back at our table, Lucy gave me an appraising look. “Well, that went surprisingly well. Feel better?”

To be honest, I wasn’t sure what I felt. The apology gave me some sense of closure with this Alison, the doppelganger of the woman I had loved so long ago, but who was different enough that our lives weren’t meant to merge in that way. But that she was a doppelganger, well, that was a keen reminder of everything I had lost. I shrugged.

Lucy reached over and squeezed my hand, sympathy in her eyes...

Ten minutes later, while Lucy was boxing up her leftovers and I fished two twenties from my wallet to cover the cheque, a female voice calling “Matthew” caught my attention.

I was surprised to see Alison standing there, her satchel strap draped over her shoulder. She patted the phone case attached to her bag. “I see you have done well for yourself. Should you have any legal needs,” she continued, handing me her business card, “our firm has extensive experience in the business and financial areas...

Five minutes later, we had agreed to a potential client meeting that evening, just she and I, at The Bentley—the five-star steak place overlooking Lake Michigan that all the top law firms used to woo their richest prospects.

When I filled Lucy in back at the table, she just shook her head. “It’s your funeral.”

At 6:45, a limo arrived at my office, complete with a choice of wines, and ferried me to The Bentley. Alison had been delayed, the driver informed me, and would meet me there.

Over dinner, she did a thorough interview about my business and its needs, then gave a complete, yet efficient overview of how her firm was positioned do a stellar job meeting those needs. From there, the conversation progressed to professional schmoozing. She learned about my rise to fame and fortune and my more recent struggles. I learned that she was two or three years from making partner, presuming she could bring in the requisite new business. 

“You would be quite the feather in my cap,” sh...

It wasn’t until we were in the limo again, another glass of wine freshly poured, that I noticed she wasn’t wearing her ring. 

“Where to, Ms. Boardley?” the driver asked.

“Let’s stop by my place first, George. There’s something I’d like to show Mr. Green.”

I lingered a little behind Alison as we walked up to her door, a strange feeling overwhelming me. Was it fear? No, it could not be. Our first date went well, fabulous in fact, if I might say so myself, even better than our first date the last time. There were literally sparks flying everywhere; they could have seared the people around us and we could not have noticed. Whatever was in the grand plan for our lives on this Earth, there must had been something in it for the both of us, together. It ...

“Come on, Lucy. Answer the damn door.”

I’m not sure why I went to see Lucy that night. It was late—well past midnight—but I knew this is where I needed to be. Lucy was my person. My best friend. If anyone could help me knock the cobwebs in my head loose, it was her.

The porch light clicked on, and there was movement inside.

“Hey, Lucy, Matt. Are you up?”

The door opened. “Jesus, Matt. You look like shit. Are you OK?”

Lucy stood there, staring at me. I wasn’t sure if she wanted to smack me or hug...

“Lucy, thanks for talking me off the ledge tonight,” I smiled, and she laughed. “What’s so funny?” I asked.

“You are,” she said. “You just don’t realise how lucky you are.” She leaned over and her lips pressed into my cheek. “I love you, Matt.”

“I love you, too, Luce.” I grabbed her hand, “You’re my best friend.” 

Lucy stood up from the kitchen table, “That’s not exactly what I mean, Matt.” She chewed on her lower lip, and continued, “I mean... I love you. I always have.” She poured herself a co...

I open the refrigerator and grab a Zombie Dust. As the fridge door shuts, I twist the cap off the beer and take a swig. I set the bottle down on the counter a little too hard. Froth wells up and with a gentle fizzle, flows down along the neck. I roll my shoulders back and forth, and unbuttoning, shrug my suit jacket off my shoulder with one hand. I take the jacket off, and with my free hand snatch the beer, as I make my way to my office.

I slip my suit jacket onto the back of my desk chair and t...

Fighting the urge to step back into the restroom and check my appearance, I see Lucy approach on the dock. She looks great in copper-coloured slacks and a sky blue knit top. Looking at the names of the yachts as she walks by, I wave and see her face curl into a smile. I step toward the gangway plank and offer my hand when she arrives.

“I’m fine, thanks.”

I let my arm fall to my side nonchalantly and take a step back to give her room. 

“As you wish.”

She walks to the sitting area at the stern of ...

“Did you have a nice day so far?” I ask, adding ‘so far’ as a qualifier, hoping to pique her curiosity.

Lucy pours a handcrafted cocktail out of a small bottle that seems to be filled with miniature topiary and real flowers. She smells the content before she takes a tentative sip, letting the mixture roll gently over her tongue.

“This is great.”

Her eyes tell the same story. She takes another swallow. “Yes, I did,” she continues. “If it was warmer I would have gone for a swim.”

That doesn’t surp...

Thirty-six was not a good age for me.

Last time around, I lost my wife and my daughter at thirty-six. Not to mention the rest of my life — no thirty-seven for that Matt Green! 

I thought things would be different this time. Different career, different life path, and someone different to love. Lucy. The same Lucy I’d left in the dust in my first life, now my best friend and, I’d thought, a lot more.

I was wrong. The minute I told her how I actually felt, how I wanted to move forward with our rela...

2019

JANUARY 2019

Time to see how I’m fucked today.

When I started at this job, I used to check my work email constantly when I was out of the office. I finally had to stop doing it. It was stressing me out too much, and my wife said I was always staring at my phone. 

An unintended consequence of this policy is that for the last ten minutes of my commute into the office, every day, a knot the size of a softball forms in my stomach. I know that once I get out of my car, walk through the lobby, hop in that elevator...

MATT GREEN: Lucy.

LUCY WHITFIELD: Yes Matt.

MATT GREEN: Manage to beat my Joust score last night?

LUCY WHITFIELD: I dunno, did you manage to get all of the glitter out of your ass last night?

MATT GREEN: So that’s a no?

LUCY WHITFIELD: Correct, and you know it. Same for you as well?

MATT GREEN: Unfortunately yes. On the plus side, if today was the day I decided to bang a stripper today, I’d have a good excuse for all the glitter in my car.

The messenger window lets me know that Lucy is typing, which means she either started typing something and got interrupted by someone at her office, or she typed a dirty joke and is trying to decide whether or not to send it.

LUCY WHITFIELD: Aw shit, tonight’s the only night? You know I only work the pole on Saturdays. Think you’ll still have glitter all over your car then?

MATT GREEN: Lol. Sorry it’ll all be cleaned up by then. You’ll have to fill some other guy’s back seat with glitter.

LUCY WHITFIELD: Lol. Missed my shot I guess. Next time.

MATT GREEN: Don’t know if there will be one. Al thought it was funny until her black suit looked like something out of Rupaul’s Drag Race. I think glitter is banned now.

LUCY W...

I manage to get through the morning doing the bare minimum of work. Honestly, it’s all I can manage after putting in so many extra hours putting together the pitch for the trust fund baby. My brain needs a break. Plus today’s Friday, and on Fridays I get lunch out, which means my brain is thinking about nothing but a quality hot dog until after 1:00 PM. A few years ago eating out meant I’d hit up the build your own stir-fry place a block over for lean meat and veg over brown rice, but since we h...

I still woke up early, even though I’d been sure that the alarm was turned off. Damn biological clock. I lay in bed a few minutes, trying to pretend I could actually fall back asleep. Almost half an hour later I sighed and rolled over. It was a quick movement, so sudden I almost could have missed it. Alison’s eyes had been open, but as she came into view, her eyelids dropped shut. Her face remained impassive, and she breathed gently. Pretending to be still asleep.

I stared at her to remind mysel...

I went down to the kitchen after a hot shower and a shave. Alison was just putting a plate of steaming eggs on the table. When Hannah saw me she jumped over to me with the excitement that only a seven-year-old girl can have. “Daddy! The party’s tonight! Are you sure you invited Shiloh’s mum and step dad?”

I smiled down at her. “Yes, Hannah. Shiloh’s parents have been invited. They said they’re planning to be here.”

“Yea! Yea! Yea! Shiloh’s coming tonight!” She hopped up and down. I wrapped her i...

I tightened the last screw and looked over at Hannah. “Now we get to find out if daddy did this right. You ready to try it out?”

“Yeah!” Hannah yelled.

“Are you sure? Because if I did it wrong and this swing breaks again, you could end up falling all the way to My Little Pony Land.”

Her eyes widened. “Well now I hope you did it wrong!”

I laughed and picked her up, setting her down gently on the swing. I looked around dramatically, then swung her with pretend caution. “Well,” I said. “No wormhole...

“Well, congratulations Matt, Alison. Ten years already! That’s quite the feat.”

I shook John’s hand and smiled at him. “Thanks.”

“How’s the restaurant?” Alison asked.

“Oh you know,” John said. “Hot as usual.”

Alison smiled. “Hot’s good in January, right?”

“I suppose so. Except that I sweat in the kitchen then step outside and turn into an ice pop.” John looked around the room at all our guests and asked, “How’s the accounting? You’re getting busy, right? Tax season and all that.”

“Oh…” Alison sa...

Oh, how I hate it when my plans go awry. Earlier that night I’d received a message from Alison claiming she was stuck in a client meeting and would be late getting home. I had hoped she wouldn’t be too late, but by eight-thirty I’d given up. Mom and Dad had picked up Hannah from school for a weekend sleepover, and I had made reservations at our favourite restaurant. I’d planned the perfect evening, and in return I’d been rejected. It hurt. 

Hungry, I opened the fridge to see last night’s leftove...

Alison:  Hi, I’m still at work, but almost finished.

Unknown:  I want you here, now. When can you be here?

Alison:  Soon, I promise. 

Unknown:  What are you wearing?

Alison:  Cheeky bastard!

Unknown:  Haha, yes, I am and you love it.

Alison:  Maybe.

Unknown:  Yes, you do. You also know what I’m going to do to you tonight.

Alison:  Do I?

Unknown: Yes, you’re mine. Always and forever mine.

Alison:  I know. 

Alison:  Okay, I’m leaving now. Will be there soon. xoxoxo

Unknown:  I’ll be waiting…

I couldn’t read anymore. It felt like someone had punched me hard in the centre of my gut, and it made me want channel the pain into slamming the phone on the floor and stomping on it, until nothing remained but little bits of metal and plastic. Instead, I smashed my fingertips on the screen to open up Alison’s contact list. I needed to know his name, needed to know the name of the man I was going to kick the crap out of as soon as I knew where to find him, but his name and number were both reco...

You know, I’m not really sure what I thought it would accomplish. I was thinking of a romantic dinner at Tony’s; I tell her I’ve found out about her affair… And then… what? Did I expect her to repent: “I’m so sorry; how could I have done this to wonderful you? How could I think of leaving our ideal marriage?! Please forgive me.”? Yeah, right.

But yeah, stupid romanticist me — maybe there was a bit of that hope. Or maybe the hope I’d get a clearer idea of what we’d broken in our relationship and ...

I pulled the door shut in a quick burst behind me, not wanting to spend a moment more in Alison’s proximity. I needed air, the cool crispness of winter on my face so I could think straight, I needed to get away from what had just been thrust upon me, I needed my life to go back to making sense before the sky fell around me and my world started ending. 

Was there any chance this was a dream? I looked down at my white knuckles still gripping the doorknob. No. When you felt pain this intense in a d...

Before no time, I was sitting in a comfortable first class seat of a small Embraer business jet. I wasn’t entirely certain if where I was sitting could be called first class, or if there were any class differentiation in a plane this size, but I was sitting near the front, and the chairs were spacious and comfortable. Alison would say, ‘you know you’re in first class when you can recline your seat all the way back, and your feet all the way up,’ and she was right, I thought, as I lay the seat co...

1995

FEBRUARY 1995

Something didn’t smell right.

I opened my mouth and a stream of tasteless, odourless foam with the consistency of coagulated milk pumped through my throat, streamed urgently around tooth and tongue, down chin and chest to splatter thick between my bare feet. I found myself not horrified, but marvelling at the quantity of granular black and red matter accumulating on the floor. Giddy with rare pleasure, a wholly unexpected sense that if one continues for much longer, they will decant their entire...

I came awake from a feverish sequence of noticed things going on around me, events jumbled out of order, oftentimes dubiously mixed in with dreams. Things were being said around me, but they didn’t seem to matter. I felt my foot being stretched at one point. Clipboards clicking. Where were all of their computer screens and tablets?

As some medically induced naps do, my confused state collapsed swiftly and cleanly. Moments later I was awake, and felt more alert and capable than I had in years. As...

I wasn’t sure whether to call them days, my periods of strange lucidity, but it gave me a certain comfort to think of them that way. This time I awoke to silence. It had grown darker outside, and only a feeble dash of pink light still stained the wall. I smiled at the memory of yesterday’s glory, and gingerly went through the act of sitting up.

I began to examine myself. I’d gone from horror to acceptance to a powerful need to understand. I thought to proceed about it in a meticulous fashion, th...

There's nothing worse than lying in a hospital bed, looking out the window, and being bored to death. At least for me, especially now. The night had been frustratingly busy but quiet. I'm sure you know what I mean: the typical hospital night, where there isn't much going on but you can always hear someone doing something. The kind of night where you just want to sleep and forget the persistent smell of disinfectant.

As the morning light shines through the window I wish I could leave this stiflin...

Monday morning came round, and there was no escaping the awful truth. I was going to have to go to school. It had been pretty shit the first time round, and I really couldn’t see how it would be any better on a second attempt.

I tried, I really did. Headache. Sore throat. A fake sneeze. But Mom wasn’t having any of it, just like before.

“Matthew, you know you have to go back,” she said, in that whiney voice used by adults when they have complete moral certainty and, more importantly, all of the ...

Having survived the usual morning rituals – which came flooding back to me even as I lived through them – we had our first class of the day, math.

It would be fair to say that I was almost looking forward to this, my first real test of how much I had remembered from Before.

Quite a lot, it turned out.

Our teacher, Mrs Hermanez, had a knack of making simple things seem complicated, and her explanation of the methods for solving equations involving inequalities had most of the class scratching the...

After lunch, I was hanging around with the kids in the yard. Johnny, Manuel, Mikey, and a tall kid whose name I hadn’t caught up with yet. It felt strangely familiar as we talked about baseball (or rather the absence thereof) and basketball and other subjects expressly designed to exclude the girls.

Lucy, therefore, was elsewhere, in a group of her own. Every now and then I caught a glimpse of her looking in my direction as if checking up on me. I could only afford to give her the very fleetest ...

Lucy and I let the large door swing closed behind us as our eyes adjusted to the return to light. We crossed the hall and sat down against the wall opposite the theater they’d just left. I sucked hard on my straw, the last drops of my Coke slurped out of the large cup.

“You’re going to have to take a major leak soon,” Lucy pointed out, reaching her arms around and circling her bent knees. 

“Whatever. That popcorn made me thirsty,” I replied, feeling oddly relaxed for the moment. I stifled a burp...

Saturday morning I woke to the spring sun streaming through the blinds and the phone ringing in the hallway. I sandwiched my head between pillows and tried to go back to sleep. It felt nice to sleep in without any worries. It was one of the only upsides to my current situation. As long as I did my homework and kept up with my chores, my parents did not care too much about how late I slept.

Moments later, I heard a soft rap at my door. 

“Matthew. Phone. It’s Lucy.” My mom had opened the door a fe...

The week passed in a blur. We spent lunch breaks plotting our alibis, pouring over bus routes, and arguing about potential scenarios. By the time Saturday morning arrived, I felt like we had already taken the trip and I was mentally exhausted. Neither of us talked much as we headed into the bus station. It was too early and I didn’t feel fully awake. Our footsteps echoed across the marble floors. We stepped up to the counter and purchased our tickets. As we walked to the gate, Lucy appeared pale...

It’s Saturday. A day for sleeping in, for pretending I’ve successfully played sick and avoided school, for luxuriating in having nothing to do. The sun is shining through the window, flickering shadows of new green leaves over the carpet and the clothes I didn’t put away last night. There’s a cardinal singing outside the window.

I’m tired already. What’s the point of it all, other than to taunt me? Einstein claimed god is not malicious, but if he’s not poking his finger in my eye now, what the h...

“I asked your friend to stay for breakfast, but she didn’t want to.”

“Lucy doesn’t like pancakes, Dad.” How does he not know that? She came over for breakfast half of every summer during high school. Of course, that hasn’t happened yet. “She says...” what was it? “She says they’re like dish sponges soaked in sugar.”

He chuckles. “Should I be offended?” I know he’s not. I’ve already polished off a dozen silver dollar pancakes, and he’s loading me up with more.

“She’s a strange one, that girl.” I ...

“You were crying,” says Lucy. We’re down by the Hoeffner’s empty lot, where they’re going to build a new house, one of these days. Except, they never do, I realise. Their son gets sick and they move to Minneapolis to be near him instead. He’s in high school now, just down the street.

“Yeah,” I say, and I can see her eyes widen. Twelve year old boys don’t admit to crying, I remember. They do it, but they never say so. “My parents,” I say. “They’re just… They stay together. They’re happy.”

“What a...

2005

MARCH 2005

Why do these interviews always come at the wrong time? This is NOT where I want to be right now, but here I am – stuck and locked into this session. And why can’t they crank up the heat just a tad in this green room? Chicago in March is ugly enough, but do they have to keep the room temp the same as outside??? 

 And what was I thinking when I put on this navy suit? Way too formal for a twenty-two year old writer. But, if I ditch the tie, maybe I can pull this off…. Too bad I shaved; scruffy wou...

We talked about today when we came home from Alison’s tenth year reunion. She was feeling wistful that night, I guess.

“That was your glory day, do you know that?”

“What, because I met you? I mean, granted, that was very important in our lives, for sure.”

“I don’t mean that, Matt. I mean you were at your peak, the most charming, the most charismatic you’ve ever been. Like, you’re not charismatic at all, but that night you were dancing with everybody, and laughing. You’d move from group to group ...

When I was coming in through the threshold I heard steps behind me, so I held the door open. This voice came from behind, saying “thanks, man”, and I suddenly realised that going to the party had been an awful idea. I turned around and saw Scott Cliff. He was looking for a place out of the way where he could leave his helmet. So he already had the motorbike.

Memory is amazing, I wouldn’t have thought in a million years that I would recognise Scott Cliff’s voice. I never knew him that much when h...

My breathing is deafening. How hard must I look like I’m concentrating on this packet of.. what? Skittles? Jesus. Not exactly a tough consumer choice. Put.The candy. Down. Act natural for fuck’s sake. Shit shit shit she’s coming this way. Smile! NOT THAT MUCH! Holy fuck I am so bad at this. Okay, she smiled back. That’s good! STOP GRINNING AT HER. Put something in your basket. Do something practical. You’re supposed to be shopping.. shop Matt shop! Okay, so what would I need if I lived near her ...

“I’ll take a Schlitz please.” She’s just cast one eye my way. She’s been drinking that since forever; After and before. She’s listening now. “COME on Wheldon”. I utter, not too loudly. I think we’re the only ones in the bar watching the race. Its a miracle they get the channel. Took some legwork finding somewhere to watch IndyCar in Chicago, but I knew she’d be here if I found it. Its her birthday soon and that ridiculous race makes her feel closer to home. She’s squinting at the screen now, she...

“Hello?” Alison peered around her door. 

“Hi!” You’re grinning like an insane person. Stop it. “I mean, hello.”

“Do I know you?”

“I’m erm, Matt..”

“You’re THAT guy! I keep bumping into you!” She pushed the door open and stepped into it, smiling. “Do you study here too?”

“Erm, no.” God I hope I’m coming off as cute. “I came to see you. Because well, I wanted to see if you wanted to, maybe go out sometime. Tonight! Maybe?”

“You came to see me?” She was still smiling, shaking her head in confusion,...

A typical spring flurry began as I hurried across the quad toward the university cafe. 

The door was nearly wrenched from my hand as a sudden gust of wind tried to push it closed again. Once inside, rubbing my hands together, I scanned the room as I breathed in the familiar scent of the coffee shop. So many years spent in this place. Waiting. 

This time I was waiting for Lucy. 

Lucy would be late. She was always late. 

But Alison might be there with her friends. 

My gorgeous Alison. 

God, how I ...

2019

MAY 2019

“What are you staring at?” 

I watched her stroll across the restaurant after the hostess, flashing a smile when she motioned towards the table. She placed a menu in front of her, her lips moved to answer the same question they ask every customer before she walks off. 

“Can I bring you something to drink?” 

Are they given special training on how to be bubbly and energetic when they ask such a question or do employers have a reference manual on how to scout out personalities that will fit with thi...

The movie was a brilliant idea. No conversation, no chance for me to bring up something she wouldn’t recollect. Like our life together, our seven-year-old daughter, our house, the millions we’d have to split if she followed through with the divorce. A life I need to forget. I’m getting my do over. Even if it means missing my little girl.  

When we talked, we discussed her career, how it felt when my first book became a bestseller. She asked if I get recognized often, causing me to laugh since no...

I lingered a little behind Alison as we walked up to her door, a strange feeling overwhelming me. Was it fear? No, it could not be. Our first date went well, fabulous in fact, if I might say so myself, even better than our first date the last time. There were literally sparks flying everywhere; they could have seared the people around us and we could not have noticed. Whatever was in the grand plan for our lives on this Earth, there must had been something in it for the both of us, together. It ...

I paced back and forth outside my dear friend’s apartment. I should have been here half an hour earlier, but for the train delay.

The walls of this corridor sported the yellow of sunflowers, but the doors were raincloud grey. Such interior decor unsettled me: Should I appear cheerful or gloomy? Both? Neither? Dust gathered on the black marble floor, and I dared not kick it lest I banged my toes against the dreary wall. Better leave things the way they were than make a fuss and get into needless ...

We strode out of the lift into the streets. Lucy strutted along the sidewalk.

“You. I spent an hour redoing my face.”

“I’m sorry,” I said.

A white bus passed by, drowning out Lucy’s angry reply. I wasn’t sure how to react. To be honest, even if I’d heard her, I still would’ve been at a loss for words. Amid the honking cars and pedestrians mesmerised by their phones, she ranted until we reached the Jackson Street entrance to Union Station. By now her face was no longer red and her eyes had relaxe...

Imagine an aircraft hitting a mountain. The sound of its grinding destruction. We only ever see the terrible aftermath, and that’s enough to stuff our imagination with the terror. All of these things happened in my head when Wilma switched on the vacuum.

“You need to get your ass into gear,” Wilma yelled over the din, stabbing a finger at me. “Get your ass off that couch, and yourself out of here. You hear me young fellah?”

Wilma had been my backstop and partner in survival for the past ten year...

Within an hour, showered and fed, I was round at Clive’s house cooking up Wilma’s Lucy recipe. Clive and I had known each other since school, and it was together at our first startup that we made our first million. Between us, we knew every tech entrepreneur worth their salt. We’d mentored most, invested in many, and sat on the boards of a few. We made money together, mostly, but underneath we retained a love for exploiting tech in crazy ways. We knew the best would be up for a challenge. The id...

On the day of the Grand Tour, the sun rose and remained the only blemish in the blue sky. Then, half an hour before midday, an autonomous stretched limo rolled up my drive and threw open a rear door.

The car had been built by Billy’s company, Snesla, which specialised in multipurpose autonomous vehicles. A young genius, eager to break new ground, and with an uncontainable ego, Billy was central to the success of the Grand Tour, and he planned to squeeze everything he could from it. It was hard t...

Thirty-six was not a good age for me.

Last time around, I lost my wife and my daughter at thirty-six. Not to mention the rest of my life — no thirty-seven for that Matt Green! 

I thought things would be different this time. Different career, different life path, and someone different to love. Lucy. The same Lucy I’d left in the dust in my first life, now my best friend and, I’d thought, a lot more.

I was wrong. The minute I told her how I actually felt, how I wanted to move forward with our rela...