He didn’t hurt as he stepped out of the mangled car wreck. It was as if he was stepping out of a dream.

Despite his surroundings, the broken car, the damaged tree, and the copious amounts of shattered glass, Chris couldn’t shake the thought that he wasn’t escaping from a nightmare. He felt at peace.

For a moment at least. Then the Officer approached.

A sinking feeling clutched at his gut, the same clutching that accompanies waking up late. It was a frantic scrambling for information. But then it struck him, and the feeling dissipated.

“I didn’t make it, did I?” said Chris.

It didn’t really require an answer, so Chris didn’t really get one, just a subtle nod as the Officer drew close.

“So, what now?” asked Chris to the somber Officer. He was trying to study his face but couldn’t tell if the Officer was 25 or 55. He was as non-descript as adults came, maybe more so. Chris was pretty sure he had a beard.

The Officer dug around in a bag that Chris hadn’t noticed and pulled out a legal pad.

“Now, as is protocol, you get to choose one memory to reenter” said the Officer.

“Just one?” asked Chris, “Isn’t this where my life is supposed to flash before my eyes?”

“We thought you were worth more than a flash,” said the Officer, “So what will it be? It’s defaulted to Christmas ’96, when you were a child, is this satisfactory?”

Chris thought on it a moment.

“Will I be able to stop in and see my mother and sister eventually?” said Chris, taking the pen.

“That’s not up to me but looking at your rap-sheet here I would say you shouldn’t have a problem with visitation rights.”

“Okay,” said Chris, “then in that case, I want to go back to a trip I made to Vermont when I was a senior in high school.”

“Okay…” said the Officer, taking the legal pad back and flipping a couple pages, “give me just a second here. Have to just override a-“

He tailed off, focused on the pad as he scratched a few things out and checked a few boxes.

“And where exactly would you like to go on this Vermont trip?” said the officer, finally refocused on Chris.

“Just the drive there” said Chris.

“The drive-“

He looked up.

“I’ve been doing this a long time. May I ask why? That’s not anywhere on our short-list.”

The officer waited for Chris to think.

“I think I was happiest then,” said Chris, “It was just, I don’t know, I guess life was simple and the trees were red, and there were leaves blowing along the road, and it felt like an eternity, and things just made sense.”

“I see,” said the Officer, still appearing as if he didn’t but choosing to move on, “just sign here then.”

Chris did just that and handed both the pad and the pen back to the Officer.

“Enjoy your memory,” said the Officer, and with a whistle he walked off.