The Hours

In twenty minutes, a taxi should be picking me up to whisk me off to the airport, and I fly to Reno.

In twenty hours, I should be driving back to SoCal with my mom, having a great time, listening to music as we drive through the day and into the dusk.

In twenty days, I should be nearing the end of my first month in the new job, and I should have sent out at least three more stories.

In twenty months, I should be a published writer, and might even have had an interesting relationship.

In twenty years, I should be a better person than I am today, and I should have achieved something -- who knows what?

In twenty decades, I should be dead, along with everyone whose path I ever touched. No more I, no more we.

In twenty centuries, there is a Jump.

In twenty millennia, there is an Interstice.

In twenty million years, there is an Exodus.

In twenty billion years, there is a Dissemination.

In twenty billion billion years, there is a Return.

In twenty billion billion billion years, Silence.

And then - a new season of Seinfeld.