“Where did you go,” she asked.

“I ran out of the hospital, found a desolate area and did some self-pitying. I stayed there for a while, thinking about what I should do. Then I just wandered through the city, drinking alcohol – something we are never supposed to do—”

“Why?”

“It messes with your brain and makes your ability to jump from one time to another very very rusty. Which I found out when I almost got ran over by another goddamn 4×4 – seriously, I have such bad luck with those things – and I jumped back in time a few decades to get away from getting killed – again – but then I accidentally kept jumping backwards. Because drunken time-jumping is a lot like trying to slam on a car’s brakes, but your foot keeps slipping and you hit the accelerator instead. It’s terrifying. Eventually, I stopped myself, and wound up in a few years ago. Which is where I accidentally punched a poilceman, obliterated all chance of me going back to Letrodacta’s birth, and eventually wound up here.”

“Woah.”

“Exactly.”