November 7, 2016

Despite what people had been saying about early voting wait times at the polling places, the line isn’t that bad.  I walk in and smile at the old lady sitting with the book of names.  She smiles back and asks my name.  I give it to her and produce a driver’s license.  She flips a few pages and scans through the book.  “Ah, here you are,” she says.  The old lady spins the book around.  “You’ll need to sign your name right here.”  Once I sign, she hands me the ballot.  “Once a booth is open, you can step inside.  Just mark your choices then you’ll feed it into the machine and be done!”

“Thank you,” I say.  All the booths have someone in them so I wait for a few minutes.  A young woman exits the middle booth, and I move to take her place.  With the pencil, I mark my ballot.  All I can think in my head is, I can’t believe it’s finally over; this election feels like it’s lasted a decade.  I leave the booth and feed my ballot into the machine.  It beeps then displays a friendly message about my vote being counted.  I take one of the “I Voted!” stickers and nod at the staff as I exit the polling place.

I arrive home and take a shower since voting was my first stop after work.  I turn on the TV, and everything is dominated by the election tomorrow.  Surveys, polls, projections, and electoral maps are fiercely debated.  As the night draws on, I start dozing off on the couch.  “Honey,” my wife says, gently patting my shoulder.  “Go to bed.  You’ll have a back ache if you sleep on the couch.”

“Ok,” I say.  “I need to take the trash out first, though.”  I hop off the couch and pull the bag out of the trash can.  I tie the strings and walk to the front door.  It’s starting to get chilly so I wish for a moment the only dumpster wasn’t on the other side of the apartment complex.  Once I reach the dumpster, I open the metal door and chuck the bag in.  I close the door and the compactor starts.  I hear footsteps behind me.

I turn around, and a man in a hood runs up to me.  His breathing is ragged.  “You have to remember!” he shouts.  Then, I see his hoodie is torn, and he is bleeding.  “Everyone needs to remember!”  He pulls his hood down, and I realize the man is…me.

Everything goes black.

After what seems like an eternity, I open my eyes and startle out of bed.  My wife sits up next to me and asks if I am feeling ok.  I shake my head to clear my thoughts.  “I’m fine.  Just having a nightmare, I think.”

“What about?”

“I don’t remember.”  I lie back down and look at the time on my phone.  It reads 6:52AM on January 1, 2016.