What does it matter when everything has come to order? Like Susan’s puzzles without the hole in the middle. Every piece in its place. The pawn, recently brushed off the table by an inadvertent cuff, returned to the board. But you can’t shake that nagging feeling that it isn’t 1941 or 2002. You’ve suddenly arrived in 1984. And there’s nothing you can do to get out of it. In fast forward. In reverse. The pawn piece is always returned. The missing elements to the puzzle always found and delivered. Snapped into place like the dead receiver at the end of an important phone call. You’re living the movie version of your life. The essence of a character that resembles you. Filtered and adapted through the camera, the director, the writers and producers. Filmic interpretations of your continual projections edited and spliced together to make a nice story. Comedic. Tragic. Historic. Anything palatable that will slide easily from the celluloid. Incantations of the tales other people roll off the tongue fly from the reel. Again and again and again.