Sent from: 2/8/2026 (32 years old)
To: 9/24/2004 (11 years old)

Dear Cody,

You dreamed this message, and now you’re laying in bed, having just woken up. Already it’s probably starting to fade as the inarguable solidness of the logos-ordered waking world reasserts itself. You love the tiny threads of light that stream from the pinhole craggles in your wooden bedroom door; the tree grew knots to let it in for you.

Focus though: I need you to remember this.

I am you, twenty one years from now. I’m writing you because I’ve betrayed you. I’ve failed to become the person you knew you could be, failed to uphold your ideals. I want to explain that I’m sorry. Beg for your forgiveness. But more than anything, there are important things I need to tell you.

Yesterday was your first day of 6th grade. It felt weird and alien. You’re in a new town, a new house. You don’t know...