Time Capsule

Today I stepped inside of Athens, GA circa May 30th, 2008, a period and place about which I’m currently writing a feature-length screenplay. The ersatz virtual reality of google street view filled me with an aching nostalgia. You look to the right. You look to the left. You turn 360º and the images wrap themselves around you.

I visited the exteriors of friends’ houses. Some of their cars were parked there. I imagined the people inside these houses and my heart sank.

On the marquee of the Georgia Theatre, someone had arranged the word “Sweet.” I googled the performers to get the date mentioned above.

I don’t know how, but a glitch occured that whisked me uncontrollably down the street. None of the directional arrows were working, so I couldn’t stop myself. I could only look around as the ghostly current carried me onward.

It all happened at a very precise speed. The moment my wireless internet connection could sharpen the blurry composite imagery of my new position, I was shot further down the street again. This succession gave me only moments to comprehend what I was seeing.

At first I thought to stop and refresh the page to regain control, but then a joyful release settled over me. I let go. I gave myself to it. I floated away from the town and time that haunts my imagination, my vision sharpening and blurring, sharpening and blurring, again and again.