At a point as yet unidentifiable, that is in the future, I like to see myself as writer in residence at a middling university. Successful in a cult author sort of way, bearded as a 50-something writer whose prime might be defined as how many young ladies find their way upon my lap, smiling and curious to know if what they say is true... Hmm? What rumour is this? Have I, consciously or otherwise, invented a facet of myself, a mythology centred on the fabulous and untrue? Or did I just plant the seed long ago? A separate point in time. Experiment: pick any two dates, one in the future and one in the past, draw a line between. Next think of something very good you did during the described period and something equally bad, draw a line between. Cross the lines and imagine the point at which they intersect to be the present. A point with four arms radiating. Now, imagine how the lengths of these lines might vary and why. Think of the permutations, the angles and vectors unseen. Are you where you deserve to be? Do you believe in karma?