“You know, there really isn’t anything you can do now, is there? No use crying about it.”
“There’s always something you can do…”
“Yes… but look, it’s dead! The only thing to do is give it a proper burial!”
“Well… we could go back in time…”
“Absolutely not! I just ate! You know how I get when we travel on a full stomach… Besides, it’s path was marked long before we’d crossed it. It wouldn’t change anything.”
“We won’t know until we try, will we? Worst possibility, we just get a nagging feeling of deja-vu…”
“And an upset stomach, thank you very very much! No good will come of it, I tell you…”
“Don’t try that ominous voice on me. It just makes you sound like you have to go… badly.”
“I will have to go, after this…”

And just like that, whether by chance or fate, they went back in time,  and took me with them.

In retrospect, I realize falling asleep in the scottish countryside was inviting strange events into my life, but the last few months had been strange in their own right. You could almost say I had been preparing for this moment…

(note: I have tons of beginnings a, bit like this one, scribbled on notebooks, loose sheets of paper and down the margins of school books and dossiers. This one has been pretty persistent in getting out and I’ll try to see where it goes next, but no promises…)
(another note: it really should go with a drawing… I can see it in my mind, but I just can’t put it anywhere else.)