A Day Like This

by Kelley McNeil

knew the road by muscle memory, my hands steering the wheel and my foot aware of when to let up on the gas and when to add pressure, anticipating on their own what would come next as if performing a practiced routine. Country roads were like that, and I found comfort in the predictability of it. I

preferred them over the lottery of speeding drivers and circumstances one found on highways and business routes.

“It’s very real. There are even instances of multiple people believing the same imagined things at the same time. A kind of collective misremembering.”

“It’s true. On a less detailed level, of course, but it goes to show just how malleable memory can be. Entire groups of people who swear they

remember something happening this way or that. There are stories of it happening throughout history, but the internet even made a fad of it a few years back. Strangers comparing notes, all swearing they remember the same exact things from politics, pop culture, even geography differently than they actually are or were.”

“Have you thought about working? You’re an artist, after all. It might help. Art therapy can be pretty powerful. It brings light to the subconscious. If nothing else, it might be soothing.”

“Graham asked me that same thing one time.” I spun around. “What?”

“Yeah. It was a couple months ago.” “He actually said the name, ‘Hannah’?” My eyes grew wide. “You’re sure?” “Yeah.” My stomach dropped to the floor. “But . . . why would he ask you that?” She shrugged. “I don’t know, really. He stopped in one day, which he never does, so that’s why I remembered it, I guess. And while he was here, he

asked if you had ever mentioned the name Hannah. It was kind of weird, actually. He seemed sort ...

What was my husband hiding?

dawned on me then. Graham’s mention of the word to Piper had probably been innocent. Right? My heart fell. I’d grown more and more paranoid over the past few

days, and I realized I’d probably made something out of nothing.

You can build on that. And listen, every day you have a chance to write new beginnings in your life.

She leaned down, retrieving her phone from her purse, furrowing her brow as she swiped and tapped.

She put her phone down, picking up the menu and changing the subject.

All around the mulberry tree, the monkey chased the weasel

might find comfort in meeting new people, more than I would in fighting with

the memories of people I used to know or was supposed to know.

Being an artist, you go so far inside your head sometimes the world feels like it’s separate from you.

can relate to those feelings a little as a writer,” he said, continuing. “Especially fiction. It’s hard to pop your head up, once you’re really into it. It can cause a lot of trouble, my line of work. Going down the rabbit hole.”

“You see, many people believe that what we call ghosts aren’t really ghosts after all. Rather, they’re projections of people

who are very much alive in another time and place. Our physical bodies don’t travel there, but our essence, energy, consciousness, whatever you want to call it, does. Science has acknowledged that there is a very good possibility that the universe is made of many dimensions and timelines other than our own.

There are entire teams of researchers in labs devoted to understanding multiverse theory.

“Dr. Linda Hodgson. She was an esteemed psychiatrist

“Before her death, Dr. Hodgson was leading a private research team.

“You’re getting the opportunity to see what life could be like for you. To get your life back on track toward discovering what truly makes you happy, here and now. Perhaps

there’s something to be learned, wisdom to be gleaned. We’ve all wondered from time to time, the great question of those two magical words . . .” She leaned forward and whispered: “What if .

“But either way, the result is the same, isn’t it? That’s what I’ve realized. I guess I have to accept this life and move on. To make peace with it.

think I need to accept that whatever I may have had, whatever has happened, it’s gone.”

‘Embrace the unknown and—’” “‘See what unfolds when we get there,’”

You never quite know what lies behind a person’s facade or what the future holds.

From that crumpled place on the floor, I would need to start living again. I would begin painting again. I knew this.

had money now and wondered if maybe a small

cottage might be purchased on a green...

set no expectations for myself and eliminated any thoughts of deadlines or show openings. I simply put one foot in front of the other, or one brushstroke after the other, as it were.

“Dreaming of

You” by The Coral

The skill was inside me, part of my DNA and part of my history, and it burst forth into the light after having been hidden away.

“People have been known to go

not only from one timeline to another, side by side, but forward and backward. Time and space aren’t all that different when it comes to energy and these sorts of things.”

Hiraeth

didn’t need to choose between dreams, I discovered. We were the three musketeers—city mice who

played in the city, and country mice who nested in a beautiful yellow farmhouse.

Not only had I been given the miraculous ability to see what life could have been like had other choices been made, but I had gotten the chance to learn from it. To appreciate life

more. I lived every day celebrating the beauty of living in each simple, precious moment.

Eunice had said that the catalyst for leaping could likely be intense wistfulness—the vague feeling of yearning

for a different life, the intense regret of missed opportunities and mistaken choices.

Some choices are easier than others. The key is to be at peace in the moment.

To

celebrate the here...