It was now January 3rd, a Thursday. I had missed the New Year, not that that meant much to me. I’m not the party type. I usually spent New Years with the family or at home. So I had lost almost six weeks. And a good friend. And my mother. In the intervening weeks she had also passed, the news given to me by an irate message left by Jeremy on the first of December. My brothers, who had had to deal with all of the arrangements and the estate by themselves, were extremely sore with me. Even Wyatt would not take my calls. As the afternoon turned into evening, I felt myself entirely alone. My life had spun completely out of control. I was at the whim of these lost bits of time. While I had been in limbo, two lives had ended. It got me to thinking about the changing world. What else had I missed? Well I had missed more lives. Apparently, the bomb threat called into my former office building was not an isolated event. And many of them were more than threats. Just before Christmas, the man who was uniting the Middle East, Abdelaziz, had been assassinated.
