Foe

by Iain Reid

Change is one of the only certainties in life. Human beings progress. We have to. We evolve. We move. We expand. What seems far-fetched and extreme becomes normal and then outdated pretty quickly. We move on to the next thing, the next development, the next frontier. What’s up there, it’s not really another world. It is far away. It’s been beyond our reach for most of our existence. But it’s getting closer all the time. We’re moving it closer. You see?”

Nothing in our routine was altered or transformed. But, against my will, I feel myself changing. I feel myself changed.

Maybe the orbit we inhabit is preordained. I’m okay with it even if I don’t really believe in that kind of thing. You can hold beliefs and not always believe in them.

I’m not an observant person. I see what I see, and the rest doesn’t matter. What’s the point? Why bother taking notice of everything going on around you, filling up your mind with irrelevant details and excess information? What’s going to happen will happen regardless. Awareness is beside the point.

How many people live day to day in a kind of haze, moving from one thing to the next without ever feeling anything? Being busy without ever being absorbed or excited or renewed?

Maintaining the status quo is not what being a modern human should be about.

“I can’t help but wonder,” he says, then turns to me. “I can’t help but wonder, Junior, if you ever think back to your life before.” Before what? I ask. “Before Hen,” he says.