I should have been packing up all of my belongings to move out of my apartment, instead I was remembering the chemistry for time travel. An old roll of film in the bottom of a box; I have waited two years knowing that in its silver awaits thirty-s ix frames of "this is how your heart was broken" and 35mm of "see how much has changed". Time travel can be tricky that way; revisiting all my hollow places, for a moment when I hold the negatives up to the light I remember the sharpness of all my arrows: "Oh yes, I remember now, how could I have forgotten? I loved you once..." But that is just a moment and arrows dull and crumble. On a dare I let a psychic run her fingers across my palm and declare that I will have happiness and success in a few years as long as I don't get too distracted, and oh yeah that I should fall in love with a gemini... And all these things can be mine if I come back for more sessions... So I guess there is always that. Time travel is an unreliable method of transportation. Good things come from remembering that "forgiveness is the release of all hope for a better past" and my arms only reach so far ahead of me.