It seems like only moments ago I was whisked away. Off into the reality of my past, the reality of my future. But not, the reality of my present. I left the present, stole it from my own grasp, gave it to someone else. A little boy it was, sitting on the street as they do, crying. They all cried. Why wouldn’t they when they knew they would never experience life like they we do. They would never get to slip into their life once they died. This was boy was one that would be born again, another life he would have to suffer on the many he had already bore. There was only one way to change it, to take this boy from his written fate. He needed a life. So I gave him mine. I took his hands in mine and smiled, he tried to protest, for my new fate would be worse than his. But I was firm, and grazingly I gave him my present. The present now he would live in, till his death came when he was let to wander the Otherlife. Where there was no bad. I would get no such sanctuary. Eternity would allow me to wander my past, and to wander to future I would have gained. It was for me to mourn what I had lost, to punish me for touching the book of fate. But I will not let myself mourn, when there is one less boy crying out there. That at least, is what I tell myself.