Alternia Comics

I'm moving on with life.

Though it's hard sometimes, I carry on as if I actually belong here. I play little games with the systems, creating crude little chronometers that keep track of time the way I'm used to, a nice twenty-four hour day. Every morning I put one on my desk to replace the one taken during the previous night's maintenence. People sometimes ask why I bother. My response is always the same, "It passes the time," and I laugh at my little joke.

Once or twice a day, a cloud passes over me. While it hangs overhead, I just stare at the numbers, not really seeing, my mind centuries in the past. I dwell on anything from my life then; friends, coworkers, family, my old commute, the smell of a fresh summer rainstom. The last invariably brings my wife to mind.

The cloud lifts and my eyes catch on my reflection in the chrome of my desk. For an instant, I see fragments of my old life in the reflection of my eyes.