Dark Matter

by Blake Crouch

For the first time, I realize there’s something familiar in his voice. I can’t for the life of me pinpoint when or where, but we’ve met. I’m sure of it.

Is it a future version of himself?

They haven’t been unhappy these last few years, quite the opposite. But it’s been a long, long time since she felt that sense of giddy love that effervesces in the pit of your stomach and spectacularly upends the world.

All the tiny, seemingly insignificant details upon which my world hangs.

What a miracle it is to have people to come home to every day. To be loved. To be expected.

Until everything topples, we have no idea what we actually have, how precariously and perfectly it all hangs together.

I try to savor the moment, to slow it down. But like all good things, it goes by so fast.

For anyone who has wondered what their life might look like at the end of the road not taken.