My family could not appreciate my ability to envision two timelines at once. Good nature dampened, I decided to take a walk outside. Wending my way between patches of gold sunlight on the grass, I cycled through the countless images in my memory of my childhood, growing up in the country with tall trees, big skies, and open fields. Then the move to the city crashed in, all close and loud and grey, with hard edges, dirt, and blazing lights at night. The stark contrast of the lifeless streets and buildings broke my concentration.

After a moment, I stopped clutching my head and shook it to clear the images away, standing upright from where I do not recall crouching. I let the memories subside, resuming my walk and recalling instead back when we came to live in the house in the hills. Since arriving, I had spent much time exploring. My phone’s map showed me the places I visited during my long walks, and a nearby location caught my attention. A restaurant with living quarters nearby. I set out in that direction.