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A Tralfamadorian visited me last night.

She was so hot. Her features looked to be a mixture of Chinese and Scottish, or maybe Swedish and Singaporean; it’s impossible to say. Her almond shaped eyes could see right into me and I became lost in the light dusting of freckles on her cheek. She called me Billy. I made no effort to correct her, even though that is not my name.

She took me on an amazing trip.

We traveled backwards through time. We saw the bees return from wherever they had gone, flying impossibly backwards into their abandoned hives. We watched the ice-caps re-freeze, polar bear dens un-collapse, and frozen habitat re-establish itself. We dove into the sea and, looking up, watched fishermen throw their nets into the water, releasing schools of fish back into the sea over and over, where they would swim away in reverse.

We appeared over Baghdad and watched destroyed infrastructure of all kinds explode back into wholeness with spectacular reverse-showers of sparks and flame and smoke, each individual crumb and fragment of disintegrated mortar magically re-constituting itself into whole buildings, bridges, roads, and public works of all kinds. Babies, mothers, fathers, people everywhere being blown back into health by explosion after explosion, blood sucking back into arteries, torn skin and broken bones suddenly returning to perfect health, families reunited returning to their backward lives.

Then she took me away to her home planet. It was a sad and lonely place, the landscape desolate, the living quarters cramped and in close confinement. All the planet’s natural resources had been used up and what remained was barren and empty. Despite my companion’s great beauty, I longed to be home with my family on earth.

As I looked around I noticed we were not alone. Close by and yet out of reach, an old man was sitting at a desk, pounding away at an old typewriter. I wanted to say something to him, but as I opened my mouth I felt myself being pulled backwards and away, backwards toward earth, back to my own backwards life.

Goodbye, Kurt. Thanks for the books and stuff.

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