Anger on the palm of the hand, transferred hard on the middle of the steering wheel. Rain lashed hard in the small tanks of water it created where once roads were. The big heavy drops make the tin roof tremble, my heart shudders in the middle of the wet night.

I saw multiplicity of my past life through a blackened window car. I saw myself standing there on the street, looking at myself. I didn’t smile, nor did I look away. I just looked as if multiple tenses stood there together hand in hand.

Three spaces strung on a string of the dimension of time.