©2015, Olan L. Smith
You know that moment, that instant when you see the jack of hearts turn into the jack of diamonds, but you know that can't be. So you shake your head and say to yourself that it was just a trick of your eyes, but deep down, you wonder if perhaps it happened. You slip between dimensions, and everything is the same except that one card. I know it is impossible, or is it? Let's try another scenario in the matrix. Your memory is much more fragile, and in it, things fluctuate constantly. The day you graduated from high school in a small town. The class has sixty graduates, and everyone knows each other. You have the list of all your classmates printed on the graduation pamphlet that you saved. Forty years later, you look at the list of students in your class, and you see a name you don't recognize. You call your surviving classmates, and no one remembers her, not even the person in charge of the reunions. Collectively, you rack your brains, but nothing comes to mind. The person in charge of the reunions searches her files, going back to the first reunion, and on every list, the unknown person's name appears. The reunion organizers say that she feels terrible that not once, in forty years, did she send the person an invitation to a reunion. Perhaps, until I read the name, she didn't exist, at least not in this realm or dimension. Somehow, reading the name created her.
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Olan L. Smith's Short Stories
Short StoryI have, over time, written many short stories,"Short-Shorts" as they are call by some, and by request I am putting them together into one collection for my readers; I will be adding to it as time allows. Love, peace, and freedom. Olan
