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Are you okay, Maggie?_ Logan asked, rousing me out of my mind-numbing speculations. Heaving a big sigh, I turned to him and said, __ guess so._ __re you still worried about visiting your mother?_ he asked softly. Nodding, I said, __ little. I__ just so confused about this whole time-space-brain twister thing. And I__ afraid I might say the wrong thing and mess everything up._ I shook my head, trying to make sense of my thoughts. __ mean - what if my younger self should call my mother while I__ there visiting her? Is there really another version of me? Or by coming here from the future, did the younger me cease to exist?
Sharon Ricklin River of Time
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Are you okay, Maggie?_ Logan asked, rousing me out of my mind-numbing speculations. Heaving a big sigh, I turned to him and said, __ guess so._ __re you still worried about visiting your mother?_ he asked softly. Nodding, I said, __ little. I__ just so confused about this whole time-space-brain twister thing. And I__ afraid I might say the wrong thing and mess everything up._ I shook my head, trying to make sense of my thoughts. __ mean - what if my younger self should call my mother while I__ there visiting her? Is there really another version of me? Or by coming here from the future, did the younger me cease to exist?

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Was it possible to feel nostalgic about something that had never happened to him, possible for nostalgia to be taken in by the body as a free pathogen to infect the consciousness with stray sentiments? Perhaps, in his dreams, he had traveled back in time, or even drifted into another dimension of space-time and inhabited the body, experiences, and nostalgia of another. To even envisage so allowed the trauma of those lost moments, though not his own, to draw from him a certain envy for the entity in whose memories he had basked vicariously. . .Perhaps, nostalgia was a microorganism. . .the bacterium that infected. . . Yes. . .maybe he was sick.