n. a moment that seemed innocuous at the time but ended up marking a diversion into a strange new era of your life-set in motion not by a series of jolting epiphanies but by tiny imperceptible differences between one ordinary day and the next, until...
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Me and Luther arrive at the Irish pub that I went to in 1963 when on a mission by the Commission. We walk inside and look around. I start to feel the paradox working.
"Well, there I am." I say, seeing myself sitting at the bar with a beer in hand.
"Why don't we just grab the briefcase and run?" Luther asks stupidly.
"Luther, I would never let that happen." I say, feeling an itch on my neck. "We're trained to guard these briefcases with our lives."
"Right." mutters Luther.
"Plus, it's the inherent paradox where this gets tricky." I state, trying to itch my neck without itching it. "I'm endangering my existence just being in the room with myself."
"Huh, what do you mean?" Luther asks, confused.
"Luther, try to keep up." I say, getting annoyed. "If old me doesn't travel back to 2019 like he's supposed to, the whole thing unravels itself. I cease to exist. You got me?"
"I get you." Luther whispers.
"So, our best chance is to talk with him, to reason with him." I say, the itch getting to be a little to much to ignore.
"Aah." Luther hums.
"He'll understand." I state. "Trust me. I know myself better than, uh...better than I know myself." I itch my neck, needing to finally relieve myself of this itch.
"You just itched your neck." Luther states, pointing his finger towards me. "That's stage two of paradox psychosis."
"No, I didn't." I deny, knowing the paradox is starting to get to me. "I didn't itch my neck."
"Denial is stage one." Luther points out, reminding me of the stages.
"I am fine, okay?" I state, over exaggerating that I'm fine. "Let's stay on task, shall we?"
"Wait!" Luther exclaims, stopping me from going to myself.
"What?" I question.
"Maybe I should go first." Luther suggests.
"Why?" I ask.
"Well, you'll freak him out." Luther states. "Bumping into your own tiny doppelganger? He will lose his shit. Just let me break the ice. Okay?"
"Okay." I mumble. 'God, I wish Marah was here.' I think to myself, trying not to itch anymore.
I wait a few minutes before I see Luther point over towards me. I step out from behind the pillar to see my older/younger self.
"Hey stranger." I say, scratching my chest a little. We stare at each other for a few seconds before moving to a table in the room. Luther grabs us a beer as me and my self stare at each other. We continue our stare down as Luther comes back.
Luther sighs, sitting down between us. "Well...this is nice, isn't it? The three of us, together like this."
