I was distracted, the green man was fading as I stepped out into what was soon to be oncoming traffic.
I didn’t spot her coming, hurtling straight towards me, on top of me before I’d realised what had happened.
My instincts had kicked in. My arms stretched out, catching the elderly lady whose arms were flailing and whose head was most definitely heading over her heels.
“I’ve got you,” I said.
And I had.
She was exceptionally grateful.
Like I could have done anything other than to have caught her. I’d have literally had to have stepped out of the way to have missed her.
So I humbly accepted the gratitude, and we went our separate ways.
I wasn’t alone in believing that she’d have face-planted the road in a rather nasty and unfortunate way. I know this because the part of the street I was on breathed a collective sigh of relief. For a brief moment, the silent mundanity of life erupted into a chatter, “Well do.” Someone said, “good catch,” said another. “She was definitely going over.” Said someone else with conviction.
It was this that struck me about this brief but eventful moment. A shared experience triggered by a traumatic event that never was. You don’t come across those very often.
He asks tentatively in the forest of the silently falling trees.
I will read 389 short stories. All have been nominated or have won the prestigious Hugoshort fiction award. The crème de la crème of speculative short fiction from the 1940s onwards.
I will endeavour to take a deep dive into the subjects and themes and craft of each story. I'll jump down the rabbit hole. Recording my adventures in a quality podcast that will rival, well it won’t rival anything because short fiction doesn't get enough love.
Big goals require baby steps.
Step one; Read. Not only the 389 on my list, but whatever short fiction I can find.
Step two; Blog. Reflecting daily on all thing story related, either on the page or off.
Step three; Review. Write about one specific short story every week.
Step four; Deep dive. Take these stories apart and put them back together again. Telling people what I’ve learned along the way.
Hay, over here, I’m committing to things (insert image of me waving frantically in my corner of the vast interspace). I say while doing my best to hide in plain sigh.
There are as many multiverses in this universe as there are universes in this multiverse. There is a story buried somewhere in that, a story my alternative self may well have written. He may well have even got it published, just in time for the whole multiverse craze to have long since faded out of fashion.
I’ve always wondered what that particular version of me would be getting up to. The version of me that never gave up dashing to the newsagents to get the next copy of Interzone, Asimov and whatever speculative fiction magazine I could get my hands on. That young and naive version of me that couldn’t understand why the local petrol station never stocked such fine publications.
So I'm going to go meet him.
I'll start by exploring the stories that he’ll have already read. Then that will lead to me connecting with the people he’ll already know, go to places, both imagery and real, that he regularly frequents. I'm not sure if I'll ever find him, but I'll have fun trying.
What follows is the chronicles of this quest, I hope I've chosen the right multiverse.