Reflections from the life and times of Mr. Smith. I fixed the hole. Yes, THAT hole you moron. But for some reason I felt...Lost. I felt like I was living in two different worlds. Here I was at home, and yet I was having random flashes as if I were on a random island in the middle of nowhere. On this island I lived a second life. I had flashed sideways...and tripped. My face was buried in the sand. I pushed myself upright and was blinded by the...blinding sun. I saw a smoky blob moving across the horizon. It made strange growling noises and the trees shook and it exploded out of the ground. I was terrified. Then I saw it. I saw IT which stilled my heart. It that made my heart skip a beat. It which made my perspiration flow freely from my brow. It...was a plan crash. I had failed on my mission. I had not saved flight 815 from Sydney to L.A. Horror gripped my heart. Pain told my hand to stop gripping. I stood in utter bewilderment and disbelief as the terrible sight of the crash and plane swept me off my feet. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a man walking across the beach. I was rather surprised, considering the plan had yet to finish crashing. But I paid him no mind. I hastened toward the crash sight. What I saw bewildered and befuddled me. It was confusion, mass case. I decided to come back the next day. Thus began my bewildered existence on this peculiar island...apart from my regular existence. I had truly created a reflection.Thus ends this week’s reflection. And then my mirror image disappeared.
