Dark Matter

by Blake Crouch

It’s the beautiful thing about youth. There’s a weightlessness that permeates everything because no damning choices have been made, no paths committed to, and the road forking out ahead is pure, unlimited potential.

“We all live day to day completely oblivious to the fact that we’re a part of a much larger and stranger reality than we can possibly imagine.”

What if I’m actually the man who everyone in this world believes I am?

What a deep question regarding the genesis of personhood and identity. If everyone believes you to be one thing and you believe yourself something else, who is right? Who sets the definition? It’s deeper than nature vs. nurture, though that feels pertinent as well. (It’s such an excellent hook for a story)

Amanda is holding the lantern,

Why doesn't this stop the box from working?