Chapter Fifty-Five: Memory as Time Travel

Chapter Fifty-Five

Memory as Time Travel

Jill told me this one day: “I’ve taught myself to time travel, you know.”

I looked at her calmly, but with some disbelief.

“Not like you, of course, Alex,” she continued.  “Mental Time Travel, I guess you would call it.”

“So,” I replied smugly, “You imagine that you time travel.”

“No. Well, maybe.  It’s like using memory to put yourself back in the past.  You know, like that Ashton Kutcher movie.”

“The Butterfly Effect?”

“Yeah, that one,” she said, filling the bowl of the bong with some Cherry Pie strain and handing it to me.  “I remember a moment and I try to access all the sensory perceptions I had.  I try and remember what I felt.  Funny thing is those moments tend to correspond to weird times in my life when I was disassociating.  I remember feeling strangely sad afterwards.  I’m thinking that my time traveling mind leaked a little bitterness and regret into my past brain.”

“So, not real time travel.”

“Fuck you, Alex.”

I flicked the lighter and took my hit off the bong.  Cherry Pie.

Exhaling, I said, “So, you’re saying that you’ve developed the ability to time travel mentally by sending your consciousness back into the past, but you can only observe, not actually do anything to change anything?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s called memory.”

She scowled.  “Maybe one day I’ll be able to change something.  Do something different.  Then does it count as time travel?”

“Sure,” I agreed.  “Hey, remind me, and I’ll run you and Jackie into the past for some real time travel in the meantime.  When are you off work next?”

(c) Copyright 2020 Diana Hignutt