e ‐

I probably owe you an explanation for all of this. Not that I have one. But I’ll try.

That park ‐ one minute I was there.

There was a man driving a jeep that I’d noticed on the way in. He drove right up to me while I was making the video. Plain as day, and told me I needed to report to the Signal Corps.

At first I thought he was joking. Then I thought he was a re-enactor. But I just went with it. Damn me that I went with it.

I can’t explain it. But in that jeep, things started to change. It was a short ride. Five minutes, maybe. But when he dropped me off, I wasn’t where I’d started.

Or when I’d started.

I kept thinking it was all a joke. Or an act. Like I was part of some elaborate setup. I even thought you’d arranged it all at one point. You know what a nerd I am… how cool I’d think that was.

But then it all became so real.

I panicked. I ran. And when I saw Cincinnati, it was different. Familiar, but wrong. Like I knew where I was, but not when I was.

I know how ridiculous this must sound to you. Trust me. It sounds ridiculous to me too.

But I’m writing this letter to you, and I’m going to drop it off at our house, to whoever is there. In the picture… that’s me and the Cincinnati skyline. Maybe that will help you wrap your mind around this a little.

I don’t know if you’ll get this. But I’m going to try.

In the meantime, I’m okay. And I’m going to keep trying to figure out where I am, and when this thing ends.

I keep thinking about The Family Man. Like maybe this is one of those impossible things where I’m supposed to see something, or learn something, and then I wake up back where I belong.

And then I keep reminding myself he winds up at home in the end.

Once he’s learned whatever he was supposed to learn.

I don’t know.

I love you,
J