—I wish I wasn’t me, the past said to the future.
—Who do you want to be? asked the future.
—Anybody. A speck. I’d rather be speck than me.
—You’ll never even be a speck on a speck, said the future.
—That’s not very nice, said the past.
—No, but it’s true. None of us will be specks on specks.
—Why? asked the past as tears welled up in her eyes.
—Because you’re not important. Nobody is.
—I thought you loved me, said the past.
—We exist together but that’s not the same thing as love, said the future. —Don’t confuse necessity with passion or you’ll only set yourself up for heartache.
—I think I need to take a nap, said the past. —I’m feeling a little dizzy. I’m feeling a little weak.
—Do that, and if you’re lucky, said the future, —maybe you won’t wake up in the morning.