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So I stood still instead. Watched the passage of time cascade, twinkling, across the lens of my goggles in a wave of a billion tiny lights. Shattered glass with no sound. Nice and slow, the hours and minutes, days and years, of the past all stretched out before me, then settled down softly upon me, warm, like an electric blanket. Then it was over, just like that. Switched off. How is it that I'm so lucky? So lucky to be the first to see such a thing? This is how it is when one is able to push past the present for even one second. When one is given a little peek at the past - a fleeting glimpse of a

***

world gone awry. A billion deaths go unnoticed while a dozen men protect their personal interests behind closed doors. Each has a vision of the future. Each fights to keep things on track. On the front lines of this war, men and women fight with each other and themselves a losing battle to make things make sense. Ethics. Personal codes of conduct are pushed tight up against one another like a shelf of books packed too full. One can not be removed without damaging it. One can not be removed without unsettling the others.

"We're not even feeding them a decent meal anymore."

"They're prisoners."

"They're people - they have rights!"

"Do you want to go in there with them?"

There's a twitching blue crackling of energy from the soldier's rifle, mirroring his on-edge mood. His finger tenses on the trigger, and his opponent's eyes drift down to the ground at his feet. Bested. Court-martial's are not very sexy - everyone knows that. Both men ease up. Both men can tell

***

you're slipping. Farther away. Farther or further away from here. Close your eyes and count ten digits. Backwards or forwards, it doesn't matter now. Just try to - it'll all be over soon. You'll feel your body move and not move, dragged backwards across the expansive chasm of one second. You'll open your eyes in the hopes of catching a glimpse of the space between, the space between then and now, but will only be met with the dead disappointment of blackness filling your goggles. Strain. Strain to see

***

a team of white coats bustling around me. Bright lights above, bursting with multicoloured coronas on the lens of my goggles. I think to lift the glasses, but can't seem to get my arm to follow orders. White and stainless steel. Something's happened. Something's gone wrong. Flurry of white. A veritable blizzard.

"He's conscious."

"Not very and not for long. 'Nother 10ccs, please."

Lights. Perfect coronas distorting as my eyes fill with tears. Try to speak. Try to get up. Run. Tell them you're okay. Body not responding. Unable to move.

***

So I stood still instead. Alone in a field of knee-high wheat with the blue, blue sky exploding over me. Soft summer wind on my face and that grass gently brushing against my legs. I was gifted, then, with the knowledge that I was one distinct part of the universe. One part as unique as the Sun or Pi Sagittarii. I stood there for a time with my eyes closed, the smell of life in my nose, and my feet planted firmly in that healthy soil. Growing roots. I just stood there for a time and let them grow. I wasn't going anywhere any time soon.