Light waves reflect from the surface of my skin. I know where I am, but I don’t know where I’ve been. The rush of electricity feels foreign to my dismal way of thinking. Perhaps I am meant to be grounded. I twist the dial once more to my left. The picture changes. I see my variant laughing on the side of the highway looking for a ride east. He’s alone, but happier than I am now. The dial twists again. This time I am surrounded in tapestries of wool– a castle of old with a man of new. The grim taste of earth lines my lips and I am somewhat taken back to a time long before I existed. Both images petrify me. I hoped things would be different, but– in some way beyond my comprehension, they are just the way they’re meant to be. I cannot change what is down the road from me, no matter how many times I turn the dial, my path is set in concrete.