Time travel

     There’s this place I go in my mind that’s briefly a split second of recognition. It’s a moment in time but not this time, but rather mini clips of an event from decades back when I wasn’t even born, yet I was there looking on captured in that exact moment that somehow comes back to my memory like a tease. Could I have been there? I’m not sleeping when these events happen, but I do stop in my tracks for that few seconds as if feeling the time travel

     Who is to say what the mind is capable of? Or maybe we use a small section of our minds to allow us to go anywhere that somehow left an impression so strong we chose to revisit it in living color. I have snippets of familiarity that are as real as the present, vivid, and with movement. Like the time I stood on the running board of a 1932 Packard as it raced through the main street of Chicago. I was firing a Tommy gun at the car chasing me. I wore a dark topcoat and a fedora on my head. There were gold cufflinks on my shirt and my shoes shined like moonlight. The sounds of tires screeching as the Packard tried to lose the cops behind us. All very real, very vivid, very much a part of a life I may have lived back in time.

     Who is to say it couldn't be true? What if life is a series of reruns that we play out during brief moments when we stop for that few seconds, and the present becomes stalled, allowing for a scene from your own movies? The movies of your complete life.

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