by Martin Bargo
A man in our circle always seemed one step ahead, as if he’d been practicing for moments that hadn’t arrived yet. He’d drop something with his right hand and catch it with his left. When we played fetch with our dog, he’d pull out a backup ball before the dog even lost the first one—and he didn’t even own a dog.
One night, after a few drinks, we convinced him to take a challenge: predict 20 coin tosses. He nailed every single one. That’s when he cracked. “I’m a time traveler,” he said. No one believed him, of course.
