[T]he reality of future space travel may turn out to be far stranger than anything we've previously imagined.

The tractor wouldn't need fixing, the bank would stop calling, / and maybe my mom would no longer need to go dancing / around a bonfire, naked, in the evenings.

Sometimes she tells me that she met me here, six months ago, that she knows nothing about my past. And then there are the days when she tells me that we've traveled through time, that we have come from the future and are trapped here. She tells me that she was a temporal scientist, that I was her project. Those are the bad days.