I woke up last night with a bright white light pointed at my face. It was the full moon beaming in through the window. There was a shadow of my head against the wall. It was that bright. I couldn’t remember having ever seen moonlight that bright and if I had, perhaps, I had not given it any thought.
If I hadn’t thought about it when and if it happened, did it really happen to me? Will my life be that which I actively commit to memory? Sadly, no. Much of it and perhaps the best of it happened not to me but to the other, rogue self who doesn’t need to write reports or keep a diary. The free me.