I’ve been thinking a lot about my future recently. The me that will be. I would give anything to speak to him. My ear is ever so delicately positioned in the cup and string we used to use to tell each other things. Back when the future was a place no further away then the next house over. I can’t hear him as well as I used to. He’s the only one that can hear me now. Time is cruel that way. Standing in the place where thousands of my fore-bearers embraced their ineffectual deaths, I feel a new cup being pressed into my hand. Its cold aluminum is covered in mud and rusting away. I feel like it could turn to dust at any moment. Ever so delicately, I press my ear into the cavern. The voice there is speaking a language I don’t understand. Rattling through the half a dozen languages we’ve encountered on this trip I still can’t even place it. Confused and frustrated I begin to weep. I know I’m here for a reason. But I don’t understand the past and the future is foggy. So instead I held the two cups together. I’m merely an operator. “Please wait one moment while I connect your call”. I know he’s broken and needs their experienced voices. Today is the day I will look back on. Today is the day I will listen for, as I walk forward into absurdity.