[Del]'s Diary

ENTRY SEVENTY-EIGHT

I’m at a lake, standing inside the cool water. The sky is bright and clear. The lake stretches out in front of me for miles. I look over my shoulder and glance at a short pier made of sienna painted planks flanked by a small dark oak cabin on yonder.

I hold a small young blonde boy at my hairy and wiry chest. His small feet paddle in the water before me and he giggles. I look down at him and smile.

To my right, my wife floats on her back in a polka-dot bathing suit. Her head bobs, and she smiles, “Are you going to continue with it?” she asks.

My fingers dip into the water and I splash back up at the little boy. He laughs and I laugh. And then I say, “I’ve got to. I've got no choice. I took an oath. Besides...We stand on the right side of history. The side of good. As long as we continue to fight the good fight, I have no choice but to soldier on.”

My wife treads water around us and then smiles. “My steadfast tin soldier,” she says and then dips her face into the water, blowing bubbles for the boisterous boy in my arms.

Does this mean I’ve already changed history? And Frankie doesn’t die? Or is this another memory, from before my murder.

[Deleted]