I’m sitting on my couch on a sunny Sunday afternoon. The day looks bright outside, but I haven’t opened the curtains. Abul Mogard was playing on Ivonne’s computer while she was in our room on the phone. Reza is eating something in her room; I can hear the spoon on porcelain.
I’m reading about the timeline of the far future, when continents collide to form neopangeanic mega-continents, when Aldeberan finally embraces its own death in a supernova visible in a daytime sky, when the sun expands to a size that will force the habitable zone toward Mars, heating the surface of the earth to a mere 2,000 degrees, when the heat death of the universe precedes the perfect environment for quantum tunneling that results in a new big bang, creating a new universe identical to our own.
I hope that means identical physics, not history. I can’t bear the thought of my future self having to do this again.