Again, Again

(Inspired by Kate Atkinson's 'Life After Life' and some near-death experiences)

I’ve been here before.

What if I’m here again?

Again, again.

You’ve experienced a lot of coincidences in your life, haven’t you? But I suppose everyone has, so who could notice the intrigue about it? Just think though. Your life has not been mundane in these moments.

Remember when you were seven, on a family holiday, three or four days in? Adorning your favourite outfit, pinched off the hangers your mum had previously threaded into the wardrobe. It was the evening, yet the sky was still as clear as the early afternoon, just the sun a little hazier. All of you were ambling back to the car, reminiscing over the ice cream that had just been consumed from a corner shop no one ever knew the name of (yet still managed to find again). Crossing the road didn’t even connect in your distracted mind so when the others stopped and you didn’t, there was no panic: just carry on.

The loose gravel of the road slid your feet from underneath you and before registering what had occurred, a car bonnet was meters from your head. It was red; that is unforgettable.

It stopped, you were fine, a grazed knee maybe, but you were fine.

How about when you were a younger, grasping an abundance of items in your paws. Transferring them downstairs in over a trip seemed too extravagant and they were clutch-able pieces, clearly unquestionable if individually cradled.

Trundling down each of the fourteen stairs was a task you completed multiple times a day, legs knowing exactly when to cease the clambering motion. Half way down, your feet got caught and your body hit the stairs with thunder.

You sat in awe, but nothing else materialised. You were fine, your things were fine, your heart calmed after a few moments.

Were these all coincidences? That you fell, were so close to fatality and yet this fate never swept by, dragging you with it. Maybe that is all it ever was.

Yet, what if you’ve done it all before?

What if the first time you slid onto the road, the red car bonnet stopped, only after connecting with your skull for a few yards?

What if the first time you tumbled on the stairs, the rhythm didn’t halt, your body like cymbals as you ended on the floor?

What if all these first times, you died? And now you’re back?

You’re living this life again.

You’ve lived it before and you may well experience it in a few weeks, days, hours. You will cascade from a window, in a busy room. Someone will target you on the train and will be relentless until it is over.

What if it isn’t over?

What if next time you will not attend the party, or hail a taxi instead?

What if your life is just an on-going story, scripted and edited like a perfectionist, until it is just right?

What if, in the end, there is no end?

What if, you never die?

You’ve been here before.

And you’ll be here again.

Again, again, again, again.