Hoping to motivate Shannon to move a bit faster, John got up from waiting at the kitchen table,
went outside, and sat in the car. There was no particular time that they needed to be at
Shannon’s parents’, per se, but they had mutually decided on what was now about forty-five minutes
ago, and John had been lingering in the sort of antsy anticipatory mood while he waited
for Shannon to be ready. He now sat in the car alternating through different VR apps,
exhausting all recently available short form content and other relevant updates that didn’t
require his full attention or much time. After about ten more minutes passed, he went back
inside to see what was going on. He found Shannon in kitchen eating a snack. “Are you serious?” John
said, “What are you doing? Let’s go!?” “I just needed a minute.” Shannon replied. “Alright,
well are you good now?” John said. “Yeah.” Shannon let out with a ring of annoyed indifference.
During the initial part of the car ride, John acted pissy towards Shannon,
exhibiting some weird hybrid of both passive and active aggressiveness.
Shannon knew he was frustrated about running late and they briefly squabbled back and forth over the
seriousness of it, or lack thereof. After just a little while, they mostly calmed down and reset,
moving on to talk normally about a series of different topics, sharing each other’s
lives with a depth, clarity, and care that only really comes with a genuine, deep connection.
A little less than halfway through the thirty-minute drive, Shannon opened her purse and
sifted through it looking for a snack pill to hold her over until dinner. While she did, John looked
over into her purse out of the corner of his eyes to double check that she had brought the portable
SSD memory display drive that he gave her earlier to put in her bag. When he didn’t see it right
away, he said, “You did bring the memory drive, right?” Shannon paused abruptly, looked up and
forward with a blank stare, and then quickly began sifting through her purse again. Then, her jacket
pockets. The drive was for Shannon’s father. John was an architect and interior designer who used
3D animated VR and AR software to create virtual models of residential and retail property designs
that could be experienced as virtual or augmented realities within actual spaces.
John promised Shannon’s father that he would create some iterations for the new house extension
and remodel that they were planning. He talked to him just a couple days prior and said it
was all set to show him. It was one of the main reasons why they were going to visit.
As it became increasingly apparent that Shannon probably didn’t have it,
John said with a clenched voice, “Shannon, how do you not know if you have it or not?”
After exhausting her performance, Shannon said with an annoyed, yet guilty exasperation,
“I don’t know. Can you just relax for a second?” Briefly closing her eyes and drooping her
head down. “You seriously didn’t bring it? I handed it right to you. It’s a simple thing.”
John said. “I know, I must have put it on the counter when you handed it to me
and forgot to put it in my bag after. It’s called an accident.” She replied.
Neither were true. John had actually put it on the counter himself and then told Shannon that it was
there, but never really explicitly asked her to grab it, which made it sort of both their mistake.
John exhaled with a long grunting sound and the car went quiet for several minute-long
seconds. “You know, it’s really not that big of a deal. We can just go back and get it if you
want. I don’t mind and my parents will be fine in another hour.” Shannon said. “We already left an
hour late to begin with, Shannon.” John said, then going on to insistently argue with her,
quickly turning the relatively mild inconvenience into a more than mild one.
John truly loved Shannon. At this point, they had been married for eighteen years.
Shannon’s more carefreeness and looser relationship with time was one of the key
qualities that deeply attracted him to her. And likewise, his rigid pragmaticism attracted her
to him. However, like many relationships, this uniting glue was simultaneously the
sticking point to many of their problems. The conflicting bond of two opposites polls.
Consequently, they loved each other with the kind of love that doesn’t always look like love but is
nonetheless just as real as any other. This moment in the car, however, was not unusual. Along with
his rigid pragmatic outlook, John learned this sort of outward display of anger towards those
you love from his father, and although he never did, including in this moment, think it was ok, he
unfortunately also faultily learned alongside that apparently sometimes you do things that aren’t ok.
Similarly, as a child, Shannon had learned to see it as normal as well.
After turning around to go back,
for the rest of the ride, John and Shannon didn’t really talk much.
At some point along the way, John stopped the car to get a battery boost at a charging station.
Less than fifteen minutes later, they arrived home, went inside,
and there on the table was the memory drive. John grabbed it with a sort of apathetic looseness of
the arm and gave it to Shannon. Shannon placed it in her purse and the two returned to the car.
While getting in, John noticed that the charging port of the car was open,
and the dust cover was missing. He immediately realized that he had forgotten to put it back
on at the charging station. John cursed at the air and slammed the door of the car open
and closed behind him as he got in. He was mad at himself because it was obviously his fault, but he
didn’t avoid the opportunity to state the absurd notion that if they hadn’t had to turn around, he
wouldn’t have stopped at the station and forgotten the cover. The cover was cheap and relatively
insignificant, but the error upset John enough to dip him back into this state, causing him
to say ridiculous stuff like this, putting both of him and Shannon in even worse moods overall.
About a half hour or so later, John and Shannon were at her parents’ house.
They put on their best happy faces and had a nice conversation over dinner. They talked about
all sorts of stuff and fairly quickly, John and Shannon’s fake happy faces turned into real ones
as they discussed the variety of pleasant and engaging topics related to their shared life.
At some point, John mentioned to Shannon’s father that he brought the drive. He handed it to him,
reiterating what he did on it, and suggested that after dinner, they go through it together.
Her father thanked him sincerely and agreed, and then the conversation continued on.
Only a few moments later, Shannon’s mother asked both of them if the company John worked for
could possibly help with the final execution of their renovation. Shannon promptly said that
John had already set up the plans and could get them a substantial discount on it all as well.
John discretely and softly nudged Shannon’s leg under the table without looking at her,
quickly speaking up and saying how he still needed to get all the approvals worked out first
but was hopeful that it should be fine. Her parents were very happy to hear it and said
they understood if it didn’t work, either way. The dinner wrapped up and, at least from
Shannon’s parent’s perspective, was very nice. On the drive home, John asked Shannon why she
answered the question about his company, asking in a flippant way that was clear he wasn’t really
looking for an answer. He knew it wasn’t that big of a deal and the approvals were almost
certainly going to be fine, but he still didn’t want her parents to know before he was sure,
and he knew Shannon knew that. Shannon, now rather exhausted from the day, said she obviously slipped
and didn’t mean to. John, now also exhausted, kind of snapped back at her response saying how
he knew it was a mistake but didn’t understand how she could make it. They went back and forth for a
little while, each possessing less energy now than earlier, yet somehow arguing with more intensity.
At some point, it became unnecessarily personal, and each said things that left
bruises on each other’s minds. It didn’t take long before they both more or less nonverbally
agreed that they had said enough. The rest of the car ride was mostly quiet.
Upon getting home, the two continued to mostly pout around and avoid each other.
They watched some TV and then went to bed without saying much more than a couple words,
each falling asleep with a sour taste in their mouth,
both wanting to just turn around and wash it out with apologies and amends, but neither doing so.
This is the 658th time John has lived this day.
At least once every week, he relives this or one of the prior several days through a memory
retrieval software. The software works by using a brain computer interface, which scans the short-
and long-term memory areas of the user’s brain, retrieving, mapping, and reconstructing their
neural firings as the user attempts to recall specific memories. Simultaneously, it scans
and maps the visual network part of the brain that is activated in relation to the memories,
conjoining the two sources of data and forming it into a hyper-real, film-like, interpretational
rendering, which can be saved like a video and experienced as a POV through VR and AR devices.
This particular day, this particular memory, was the last one John had with
Shannon. The next morning, on her walk to work, she was hit by a car and killed.
This last day that he had with her, and a collection of some several other days prior,
are the only clear full days John could properly retrieve following the accident.
He occasionally alternates across the different days, which are mostly all essentially the same,
and sometimes watches just individual moments that he was able to recall as isolated memories,
but something about this last full day specifically feels the clearest and most real.
He loves re-experiencing it as if it were his actual day, hearing Shannon’s voice,
seeing her face, and experiencing the illusion of being there with her for the last time.
Every time, however, he has to watch himself treat Shannon with crassness, impatience, and disregard
over what is now so clearly nothing. Generally simple, insignificant blips of order and plans,
almost always a mistake that was equal part if not fully his own, almost always things
with the consequence of little to nothing; generally minor inconveniences turned major;
generally good moments or days turned bad for no real reasons. And every time, it devastates him.
But despite these days being filled with mundane ordinariness and these childish displays of
useless anger and frustration, they are better than almost all the days John has had since.
People often say, “live everyday as if it were your last.” But far less commonly do you hear,
“live every day as if it were everyone else’s.” It isn’t easy for John. It’s a constant effort.
The loss of his wife didn’t make the obvious, but nearly impossible clichés of life any easier. For
a while, it made even just showering feel like a hike. But as a token to the lesson of her memory,
John now tries with full commitment to consider in each and every interaction he has with those he
likes, loves, or hates, what if this were his last one? What if yesterday’s was or tomorrow’s will
be? One never knows for sure which memory will be their last with someone until they can’t form any
anymore. And now, every time John goes out into the world with friends, family, or strangers,
he tries to remind himself and ask, “If this were the last time, the memory that I would
have to relive over and over as the last one, would it hurt to watch more than it has to?”