I have come unstuck in time. My former partner, however, is still trippin. It’s okay. I can’t be here for her on this one, though.

Our short lifetimes are a blur. In periods of happiness and vitality, the clock has little meaning, the world is oyster-filled, and we are hungry. I don’t like oysters, but the analogy works. As she blurs into smoke behind me, I do recognize the pain of the miss. Each time she sends me an email, my heart leaps. My head pulls the emergency brake. No going back. Untethering was abstract when this book began, it’s even more broad in meaning than my original intent. I was/am untethering from the woman of Glitching and Soul Love. Shit, does it take me three novels to let go?

This one is running low on fuel and O².

I have no destination. Several orbital craft are pinging in. I am at least 48 hours from liftoff. She has not been spotted in the last 5 hours. The ping came this morning. Alive.

She is reading this. They might be reading this. No one is reading this. Are you sleeping or awake? I cannot tell for my own part. The fracturing of my timeline has left me without any forward momentum. I am not moving towards or away from… anything.

Shutdown and paused. I got the message this time. Awaiting further instructions.

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