Version Control

by Dexter Palmer

Maybe he wanted to set the tone of each morning by always trying, and always failing, the consequent band of pain across his chest serving as a reminder of that failure to carry him through the day.

Being is always becoming; people change and stay the same. What is true for bodies is also true for selves: even the most honest person has many faces, none of which are false.

She had been dealt her own peculiar tragedy, and she’d come to terms with it in her own way (even if doing so involved realizing that she would never not be coming to terms with it; that even though she’d gotten past it, she’d never be able to get over it).

“But that doesn’t mean I’m not having that self-doubt. Especially now, when it’ll soon be too late for me to choose another path in life. You know—when you look back on your life, you want it to have the shape of a good story, where each year is better than the one before. You don’t want your story to be one where you hit a plateau and tread water for the rest of your life, and you tell yourself you’re happy because you’re getting by. And I’m not sure the life I’m leading now is one that I’ll be happy with, years from now.”