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Maps of the Lost

@mapsofthelost.com
496 followers 336 following 198 posts

The maps to the lost places and the secret histories. Be cautious: if you follow them, you may become lost yourself. stories/Substack/podcast. Substack probably the place to start. linktr.ee/mapsofthelost

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Maps of the Lost @mapsofthelost.com · 20/09/2026
4775937208462283

In the corner of the seventh floor of a little-used multi-storey carpark, there is a nondescript and tired-looking vending machine that casts out a weak glow. Its selection is poor, and doesn't include any of the brands you know and recognise. Rather, the contents appear to be off-brand substitutes, in poorly printed and faded wrappers, as if the machine was an exhibit in a gallery and titled 'snack selections, East Germany, 1982'. It only takes coins.

Most people study it for a moment or two and walk away. The odd person will find some change in their pocket or go back to the car for the coins they keep in case they need them if the app has no signal, and buy a ChocoBloc (press 05), or a Sump Bar With Granules (press 12). The vending machine rattles, and eventually an arm moves arthritically forward and drops the choice off into the vending tray.

If, however, you insert any combination of coins and enter 4775937208462283 (and exactly that, please do not get a digit wrong as unfortunate things will happen in quick succession), the machine will rattle and an arm will move forward from the back and drop into the tray a small matt black slab that is surprisingly dense for its size. Take it with you. Keep it with you at all times. One day, you will need it very much, and when you do it will let you know by glowing as white as a star, and by talking you through how to use it.
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Maps of the Lost @mapsofthelost.com · 12/09/2026
⁣ A face carved into stone, a third exit on a roundabout that has two, salt laid around a village boundary. New Maps of the Lost newsletter out in the fields, the woods and the edges. Plus news on the book, Ooser's back, and a rabbit hole of synchronicity & high strangeness.⁣ ⁣ tinyurl.com/494f74kb.
mapsofthelost.substack.com
Maps of the Lost 36
from the village in the circle
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Maps of the Lost @mapsofthelost.com · 06/09/2026
An MRI radiographer was conducting a routine abdominal scan on a middle-aged woman. He was quite young, compared to his colleagues, but he had done many of these before. She was nervous, as most people are when they have to be slid into a tiny claustrophobic tube that would bang and rattle at them, but also as most people are when the results might tell them something that would change their life forever. But the radiographer was good, engaging, patient and kind, and she appreciated that as she slid into the narrow walls, like a coffin.⁣
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Part way through the scan, his voice came distant and shaky through the speaker. He was ending the scan, he said. Technical issue he said. Nothing to worry about.⁣
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She slid back out again, and when she saw how nervous and sweaty he was, she was filled with fear. He told her it was nothing to do with her, just a problem with the scanner. Don't worry, he said, I haven't seen anything. Take a breath. Then she slid back in, and it all started again.⁣
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Watching the scan, he had seen that she contained what appeared to be a second, very small woman, curled in a space next to her liver. Not a child, not a lost and calcified twin. And worse, he was sure that before he stopped the scan, the very small woman had turned her head as if she were looking at him.⁣
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The second scan was as it should have been, and although as a radiographer he should not have said anything until the radiologist had looked at it, he told the woman that it all looked fine, because he felt he owed her that.⁣
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Maps of the Lost @mapsofthelost.com · 30/08/2026
A man was walking his dog in a local park. He let the dog off the lead to run round in excited circles, the way that dogs do, and took a breath, enjoying how the air was cooler now, and there was a faint scent in it promising autumn.

He became aware, in a slow way, that sounds that he heard all had a slight delay. A woodpigeon erupted from a tree, and it was a second before he heard the frantic flapping of wings. A woman not far from him threw a ball for her own dog, and the ball bounced on the path and the dog had caught it in its mouth before he heard the sound of the bounce. Two children came past on their bikes, and the ding of the bell came once they were past him. 

Unsettled, when his dog came back to him he clipped the lead on, and walked away towards the car, the click sound of the lead reaching him two paces later. By the time he got back to the car, the delay had gone. He fretted for days about whether there was something wrong with him, but felt too embarrassed to go to the doctor. He never experienced the delay again, but as time went on he began to suspect, for reasons that he could not explain to himself, that there was nothing wrong with his hearing, nothing wrong with his brain, but that there was something very wrong with that part of the park.
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Maps of the Lost @mapsofthelost.com · 16/08/2026
A woman was walking with her six-year-old son along the seafront at Allonby. She watched with a smile as he squatted down to pick up a shell, put it up to his ear, and listened intently. He frowned and kept listening, to the point where she said, "Come on, let's head on now. Fancy an ice cream?"⁣
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He ignored her, listened for a moment more, then put the shell into his coat pocket and stood up.⁣
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At that moment, she felt very strongly that he was not quite her son. His coat was the bright yellow coat he wore. When he looked up at her and grinned, it was her son's face. But she felt as if it were the grin of someone working out how to grin for the first time. ⁣
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When they reached the cafe, the moment had passed and he was her son again, chatting about what flavour to get, and what to have for lunch later, and she never felt again what she had in that moment.⁣
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Nonetheless, when he was asleep that night she stole into his room and took the shell from his coat pocket, and she went outside with it, stamped it into tiny pieces, and used her foot to nudge them all down the drain.⁣
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Maps of the Lost @mapsofthelost.com · 15/08/2026
Some years ago, a woman in Exeter was driving her son to school on a rainy morning. Stopped at a red light, she glanced idly at the car in the next lane. The man driving was her son, she knew as truly as she knew her own name, only as he would be when he reached his twenties, in a car she did not recognise, wearing a coat she had not bought.⁣
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The lights changed, and she lost pace with the car in traffic. Her son fidgeted in the passenger seat, talking about how he was going to be an astronomer one day. Reflexively, she used it as an opportunity to remind him that he would need to be very good at maths, so had to do his homework.⁣
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She never told her son about what she had thought she had seen that day, and although he has now passed his driving test he has not yet bought a car. She has seen that coat in the shops, and knew that he would like it and it would suit him, but she has not, so far, bought it.
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Maps of the Lost @mapsofthelost.com · 26/07/2026
A shadow that doesn't move, and the neighbour who talks to it. A woman in a red car who keeps passing on the motorway. An archive that records births and deaths that never happened. And a door that opens not into darkness, or space, but…nothing. mapsofthelost.substack.com/p/maps-of-the-lost-35
mapsofthelost.substack.com
Maps of the Lost 35
from the passenger seat
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Maps of the Lost @mapsofthelost.com · 21/06/2026
A crow that leaves gifts, and what happens when you take them. A VHS tape of a street you almost recognise, with someone in it who looks like you. A bus making a stop it shouldn't. A man in a Christmas crowd tearing at the air, and then gone. Maps of the Lost 34 is out now.
mapsofthelost.substack.com
Maps of the Lost 34
from a fragment of a scrawl on a whiteboard
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Johnny Mains @johnnymains.co.uk · 23/05/2026
'Oh, Whistle, and I'll Tailor for You, My Lad'
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Maps of the Lost @mapsofthelost.com · 23/05/2026
PARTY RINGS⁣
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When you were just nine years old, you were playing alone in the long grass at the edge of a field. Your parents were twenty yards away, sitting on the picnic blanket talking about boring grown-up stuff.⁣
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You swish at the grass with a stick, and then stop, not moving, as a tiny brown hand reaches out from the hedge next to you, and stops, little palm up.⁣
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In your pocket you had a stash of Party Rings that you'd sneaked from the picnic box to keep you going as you explored, so you take one out, and gently put it into the hand, which closes around it, and retreats back into the hedge.⁣
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You think for a minute, and then you take out the other biscuits and stack them next to the hedge, and then go back to your parents who are clearing up the picnic, and loading up the car on the verge.⁣
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It's decades on, but every year you go back to that field and leave a little stack of biscuits. Maybe the birds take them. Maybe.
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Maps of the Lost @mapsofthelost.com · 04/05/2026
It spins around behind the glass, but when the machine stops and the door is opened, the mitten is nowhere to be found among the wet laundry that comes out. (🧵2/2)
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Maps of the Lost @mapsofthelost.com · 04/05/2026
If you're in a particular launderette in Cardiff, watch for the machine at the far end, next to the vending machine that spits out black tar in flimsy plastic cups. No matter whose wash is, if you watch it go round you may see a small, hand-knitted child's mitten, navy blue. (🧵1/2)
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Maps of the Lost @mapsofthelost.com · 03/05/2026
If you walk on the Isle of Sheppey, you may see an elderly woman, crying softly. She is holding a small copper tin in her hands. If you ask her what is wrong, she will look at you sadly, hold out the tin, and start to lift the lid for you to look inside. It’s best you don’t. You may fall in.
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Maps of the Lost @mapsofthelost.com · 26/04/2026
A department store counter with something waiting behind it. A Holborn lift that knows about a floor that doesn't exist. A coach on the Pennines on the wrong night. Pan, the numinous, and some unsettling fiction recs. This month's Maps of the Lost newsletter is out now.
mapsofthelost.substack.com
Maps of the Lost 33
...from under the counter
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Maps of the Lost @mapsofthelost.com · 25/04/2026
The other lines

Be wary travelling home late on the Piccadilly line when you are tired and maybe preoccupied with those arguments at home, or the quiet desperation of your job. Be wary on those nights where the motion of the carriages rock you back and forth and the air is a fug of tunnel smell and sparks, and all you can see in the window opposite is your reflection against the dark, staring back at you like somebody already lost. 

Because if you fall asleep between stations, on certain nights when the moon is in the right place, you will wake with a start as the driver announces ‘this train terminates here’. You’ll curse at yourself and you’ll grab your bag and stagger bleary-eyed off the train. As it pulls away, you’ll realise, puzzled, that you are not in Cockfosters, nor are you in Uxbridge, Heathrow or Rayner’s Lane, and when you stare at the map on the wall of the empty platform, you won’t recognise a single station name.

You are travelling on the Other Lines now. Can you find your way back?
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Maps of the Lost @mapsofthelost.com · 24/04/2026
A parish council in a Northumberland village has a tambour cabinet of carefully-filed minutes in a cupboard in the parish hall. They are held in an unbroken sequence going back to 1817. If you were to dig through them all, which no one does, and you read the minutes for the meeting of 19th January 1886 you would see that they consist of a single line: "It has been laid to rest"
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Maps of the Lost @mapsofthelost.com · 28/03/2026
Delighted to have this new short collection from James Everington drop through the door. If you don’t know James’ work I can’t recommend it highly enough. Out today from Black Shuck Press.
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Maps of the Lost @mapsofthelost.com · 25/03/2026
A toy owl in a charity shop that, of course, is not what it seems. A motorway corridor where geometry bends. A lost phone that changes everything. This month's Maps of the Lost newsletter: stories, the fiction of not-knowing, and the gaps between what's seen and what can be understood.
mapsofthelost.substack.com
Maps of the Lost 32
from inside the not-knowing
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Maps of the Lost @mapsofthelost.com · 25/03/2026

There’s one small street of terraced houses in the north of Dewsbury where you should not buy a house, because you will never have good luck and much in your life will go terribly wrong. So, if you find yourself knocking through a wall in your house, mourning the slow death of your marriage or your troublesome children or your impending redundancy, and buried in the wall find what look like teeth, you have not heeded this advice. 

Every one of the houses has what looks like misshapen teeth in the walls and worse in the foundations and if you are digging deep in the garden where nothing grows and you find a small wooden box do not open it because what’s inside will come out and look for the rest of itself and will not tolerate anyone getting in the way.
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Maps of the Lost @mapsofthelost.com · 20/03/2026
FIVE NAMES 

On a small hill overlooking a tidal estuary in Essex, there’s a wooden bench. It’s not often you see anyone sitting on it as the view is all right, but nothing special, particularly when the tide goes out and there’s just mud stretching towards a thin ribbon of silvery sea. 

The path that runs behind it is used by the occasional walker or someone wandering along while their dog explores the grass on either side. If you stop for a moment to look out over the mud flats, or you sit on the bench to eat a squashed sandwich out of your bag, you might notice the plaque on the back of the bench, like you see on so many others that commemorate the memory of a lost loved one, but this stands out because it’s just a blank brass rectangle. Perhaps it’s just been put on, and the council are going to send someone out to engrave it, you think. But then you think, surely it’s easier to engrave them before you fit them, and the plaque looks weathered. Probably forgot, you think, typical council. Hope no one paid to have it done. And you eat your sandwich, and you look at the shining water, and then you move on.

Twice a year, though, on the equinox, if you stop at the bench you’ll notice the plaque has a list of five names on it, finely engraved. When you read the names, they’re all living people. Until the sun sets, anyway.
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Maps of the Lost @mapsofthelost.com · 07/03/2026
In a reed-shrouded pond in some small woods in Weardale, you might chance upon the sight of six herons, all close together, standing still in the water the way that herons do.
The six of them meet there at dawn once a year and wait until the sun sets. If a seventh heron arrives while they are there, then all of them stand for a moment, as if they are committing the water and the reeds and the clouds and the air to memory, and then they take off into the sky, slow wings beating the air, and then so do the smaller birds from in amongst the reeds and then the larger birds from amongst the woods and then all the birds from every field and every tree and the tops of houses and the arches of bridges and the cliffs and the shores and the gardens and the rocks, and every bird flies up, every one, up and out of sight and beyond, as they know that this world is done.
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Maps of the Lost @mapsofthelost.com · 03/03/2026
Terrific time at the UK Ghost Story Festival this weekend. Three days of panels, workshops and performances, lots of inspiration and met some lovely people. favourite quote from any of the panels was maybe Will MacLean talking about the need to begin ‘reweirding your house’.
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John Reppion @johnreppion.bsky.social · 19/02/2026
Myself and @gavcross.bsky.social have been blown away by the response to our first Haunted Book Club episode on The Signalman. Thanks so much to everyone who joined us live and who has watched or listened since. Please check it out on whatever podcast app you use, and please help spread the word.
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John Reppion @johnreppion.bsky.social · 21/02/2026
With #SmallProphets on everyone's minds, you might be interested in some extra info on Homunculi. Back in 2017 I wrote this piece: "How to Make a Homunculus" for @dailygrail.com www.dailygrail.com/2017/11/how-...
dailygrail.com
How to Make a Homunculus
That the sperm of a man be putrefied by itself in a sealed cucurbit [a pumpkin-like gourd] for forty days with the highest degree of putrefaction in a horse’s womb, or at least so long that it comes t...
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Maps of the Lost @mapsofthelost.com · 21/02/2026
(text version in the alt text, or: substack.com/@mapsofthelo...)
NOTHING

It’s that strange hour when it’s not quite dusk but the day is fading away, and the blue of the fine autumn day has shaded from sky blue into something darker. You’ve been for a meeting somewhere in a part of town you don’t know that well, and decided to walk home as the air is crisp and you like to find new streets, quirky architecture, fading adverts from a hundred years ago just visible on a gable end like a ghost, the neon lines of modern graffiti.

You turn a corner down a side street because the big road you were on looks like it curves off in the wrong direction, and you know you need to head towards where the sun is setting. This thought pleases you, as if you are some kind of great explorer who can navigate by moss and the flight of geese.

The street you’re now on is a row of mews houses, the occasional car parked up on the pavement, an atmosphere of calm satisfaction and newly painted front doors.

There’s only one person on the street other than you. A little further down, a man has stopped in the middle of the road, and is waving his hands up towards the sky. You slow a little, think about turning. You don’t want to be judgmental, but you’ve had some bad experiences. He is smartly dressed, a dark mac over what looks like a blue suit, but all the same, you slow.

He gestures with his hands again, and a perfect circle is removed from the sky, as if a hole has been cut in it. The deepening blue is gone, and the blackness within the circle is darker than the dark of night, darker than anything that you have seen or will see again.  

You stop, and maybe you cry out or maybe you scuff your shoe or maybe he just knows, and the man looks over his shoulder in alarm, sees you there, and quickly waves a hand again and the sky is back, uninterrupted blue. He hurries off, you stand there a little while until an Uber Eats moped swings round the corner on a short cut and nearly runs you over.
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Maps of the Lost @mapsofthelost.com · 21/02/2026
Newsletter out now. An underpass that doesn’t behave, something learning how to be human a word at a time, an odd tune leaking through you into the world, strange labyrinths, thoughts on ghost stories and why it's best to never see the monsters. mapsofthelost.substack.com/p/maps-of-th...
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Maps of the Lost @mapsofthelost.com · 04/02/2026
Ashes

There's a grey-looking man who moves around South London, never settling in one place too long. He's thin, with intense eyes. He's grey-looking not just because his hair is grey, or because his clothes began that colour, or faded to it, but because he looks as if a fine layer of ash has settled on his skin.  He does have a name, but he's forgotten it.

He's nearly six hundred years old, and as long as he keeps feeding will live at least another six hundred more. You might read that and think him a vampire. Maybe he is, of sorts. But he has no interest in blood. 

The grey-looking man stands at the back of funerals where everyone thinks someone else has invited him, and he will stop and stand nearby if he passes someone being evicted from their house. He sits over a tea in bookies while men around him lose the money they had promised their wife would pay the rent, and he finds a seat in the public gallery of the court at murder trials, as near the family as he can. He browses food-banks without ever taking anything, and he'll wait in a hospice car park, pretending to be on his phone. He will spend evenings waiting to the side of bridges that are notorious for suicides, and he lingers outside coroners' courts, and in the back pew at memorial services.  He'll stand by shop doorways where homeless people freeze and despair, and he'll wander that far section of the graveyard that is covered with teddy bears and bright plastic windmills, holding some flowers, drifting close to those sobbing as if their heart breaks again with every breath.

He feeds and he feeds and he feeds, and he will never, ever go hungry.
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Maps of the Lost @mapsofthelost.com · 01/02/2026
Tonight’s watch. No, never blow a whi- oh. Too late. Decent adaptation of Elizabeth Jane Howard‘s excellent “Three Miles Up”.
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Maps of the Lost @mapsofthelost.com · 01/02/2026
There's a young dentist, new to practice, working in Rochester. Once every so often, when he is working with patients having a routine check-up, he thinks that he can see a tiny symbol, so faint that it almost might not be there, etched into the molar on the left-hand side, so delicate and tiny it does not compromise the tooth in any way.

He's thought about raising it with the senior dentists in the practice but he doesn't because it is so faint that he is not sure whether he might be imagining it, and doesn't want to look ridiculous or prejudice his career. He also doesn't raise it because every time he thinks about doing so he feels cold, as if he has just stepped into ice water, and he has a night of dreams which he can't remember in any detail beyond that they are furious and terrifying. 

He is also trying very hard to stop running his tongue over his left-hand rear molar.
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Maps of the Lost @mapsofthelost.com · 31/01/2026
Reading and watching over the last week, and up next for this weekend, The Turn Of The Screw/The Innocents, The Haunting Of Hill House/The Haunting. Up next for tomorrow, The Uninvited. Got to say though, Henry James, end a sentence once in a while, PLEASE. Shirley Jackson’s prose though 😘
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Alex Davis @alexdavis1981.bsky.social · 31/01/2026
Not long to go now - the UK GHOST STORY FESTIVAL ONLINE starts on Friday 6th Feb, with three days of talks, interviews, workshops and more! www.ticketsource.co.uk/ukghoststory... #ghost #ghosts #ghoststories #ghoststory #writing #writers #authors #darkfiction #supernaturalfiction
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Maps of the Lost @mapsofthelost.com · 31/01/2026
(text is in the alt text, as usual)
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Maps of the Lost @mapsofthelost.com · 31/01/2026
Next time you’re in a public Zoom meeting with many participants, keep an eye out. It might be a social gathering, a talk or lecture, an educational event or a seminar. Look out in the list of participants for a man named Michael Kilgolfen. He’s easy to spot, with his bright red hair and engaging grin, nodding away as if everything that anyone says is insightful and wise. He won’t ever speak, but there he is. If you’ll see him a second or third time, you’ll wonder if you have mutual friends, how it’s funny you don’t know each other as you have such intersecting interests.⁣
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You might message him, but you won’t get a reply.⁣
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If you ever find yourself logging in to two Zoom meetings at once, or three, or four, is that you may see Michael Kilgolfen in all of them, smiling and nodding away. No big deal, you think, after all I’m in more than one meeting at a time, so…⁣
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Then you realise that the Michael Kilgolfen you see in each of these meetings is nodding and smiling at different times, and one of them scratches his head for a moment, and the others do not, and as you realise this all of the Michael Kilgolfens stop smiling and look very intently into their cameras, as if staring at one person.⁣
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Which indeed they are.
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Julie Phillips @julie-phillips.com · 22/01/2026
When I wrote this a year ago I had no idea how bad things would get. Today, eight years after she left us, I'm trying to follow Ursula's advice: write and worry. Write and act. Worry and keep writing. lithub.com/the-way-of-w...
lithub.com
The Way of Water: On the Quiet Power of Ursula K. Le Guin’s Activism
In the past two months, I’ve found myself thinking back to an essay Ursula K. Le Guin posted on her blog in November 2016. It was one of her last long essays, and she wrote it at a time when she—li…
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Alex Davis @alexdavis1981.bsky.social · 17/01/2026
Three weeks to go until we present a packed line-up of ghost story goodness, all happening online so you can join us from the comfort of your own home! And some line-up we have incoming too... www.ticketsource.co.uk/ukghoststory... #onlineevent #onlineevents #onlinefestival #onlinefestivals
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Maps of the Lost @mapsofthelost.com · 24/01/2026
If you enjoy it and think your followers might too, please do share it.
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Maps of the Lost @mapsofthelost.com · 24/01/2026
A footpath best left alone, directions to places that don’t exist, gifts from birds who know too much, a man with far too many names, books that aren’t ghosts but haunt you anyway, a ghost story festival, and why you never want to meet Ash Francis. mapsofthelost.substack.com/p/maps-of-th...
mapsofthelost.substack.com
Maps of the Lost 30
...from the path to the deep dark woods
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Alex Davis @alexdavis1981.bsky.social · 12/01/2026
Spooky season will be going into overtime in 2026, with the UK GHOST STORY FESTIVAL ONLINE running from the weekend of 6th-8th February! Let us bring the hauntings to you for the weekend... www.ticketsource.co.uk/ukghoststory... #ghosts #ghoststory #ghoststories #hauntings #gothic #gothicfiction
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Pete Glastonbury @peteglastonbury.bsky.social · 11/01/2026
Avebury Cove stones from a frosty tree. #StandingStoneSunday
Avebury Cove stones from a frosty tree.
#StandingStoneSunday
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Julian Simpson @juliansimpson.bsky.social · 11/01/2026
Dressing Up Dogs: www.cartoongravity.com/dressing-up-…
Dressing Up Dogs
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Maps of the Lost @mapsofthelost.com · 11/01/2026
Very much looking forward to going to this at the end of February. www.ukghoststoryfestival.co.uk
ukghoststoryfestival.co.uk
Home
2026 DATES NOW CONFIRMED! 6th-8th February 2026, Online via Google Meet Pick up your tickets here 27th February-1st March, In-person at QUAD, Derby Pick up your tickets here
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Hidden Britain @hiddenbritain.bsky.social · 10/01/2026
'SCHOOLS AND COLLEGES' CLOCK Huge thanks for all of yesterday's orders for our new 'Schools and Colleges' clock. Last few available in the shop for shipping in February. hiddenbritain.bigcartel.com/product/scho...
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Captain Pooky @captainpooky.bsky.social · 10/01/2026
Timeline Cleanse: Please enjoy this photo of a praying mantis that was sitting on top of my car windshield, but the angling and lighting were so weird it looks like a giant praying mantis wandering a corn field in Iowa.
What appears to be a giant praying mantis wandering a corn field is actually a normal sized praying mantis that's actually sitting on my windshield
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Maps of the Lost @mapsofthelost.com · 02/01/2026
But it’s not the sound of a crying baby. It’s the sound of the thing that the soldiers who buried the bones in the walls were trying to keep out. (2/2)
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Maps of the Lost @mapsofthelost.com · 02/01/2026
Excavations at the Roman fort at Reculver found a number of skeletons of babies within the foundations and the walls. Local legend has it that the fort is haunted by the sounds of a crying baby. If you visit on the right night, you might hear it. (🧵1/2)
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Maps of the Lost @mapsofthelost.com · 28/12/2025
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Maps of the Lost @mapsofthelost.com · 23/12/2025
the two excellent podcasts mentioned are @ghoststorybookclub.bsky.social by @adamzed.bsky.social and @strangestudies.bsky.social by @chrislackey.bsky.social and @chadfifer.bsky.social If you don't already know them, check them out. Hours and hours of great content.
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Maps of the Lost @mapsofthelost.com · 23/12/2025
The last Maps of the Lost newsletter of the year is out. Clouds showing you the way, evil on the 8:14, the edge of the map in a cul-de-sac, two great podcasts, getting more lost than lost can be, avoidance of the Christmas Bone Man and more. mapsofthelost.substack.com/p/maps-of-th...
mapsofthelost.substack.com
Maps of the Lost 29
from a quiet suburban cul-de-sac
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Maps of the Lost @mapsofthelost.com · 14/12/2025
TIME TO GO

You might be enjoying a quiet Sunday afternoon, when there’s a knock at your door. Perhaps you’re reading a book, baking, or catching up on your latest streaming favourite, and you sigh and go to the door. You can’t remember having ordered anything for delivery, so you open the door bracing yourself to say no thank you to someone selling something.

But it isn’t anyone selling anything, it’s you. You stand there, dumbfounded, and look at yourself standing on the step smiling. 

“I’m sorry,” the you outside says. “Despite all the memories you think you have of your life, you have only been in existence for a week while I had to be away in another place, very far away.” 

You stare, lost for words.

The other you places a gentle, warm hand on your arm, and in a kind, sad voice says, “It’s time to go now.”

As everything starts to fade you will feel distress, but it won’t last long, and anyway, you’re not really you, are you?
051