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Twenty Years Ago<\/strong><\/p>\n Now<\/strong><\/p>\n Tomorrow<\/strong><\/p>\n Twenty Years From Now<\/strong><\/p>\n Eventually, the road leads you here. <\/span><\/p>\n Some get here before you, and some get here after you\u2019ve been here awhile.<\/span><\/p>\n Some departed before you but will arrive after you. <\/span><\/p>\n Some departed after you but get here before you arrive. <\/span><\/p>\n Some come to this place right away. Others go elsewhere, having other things to do first. Some hang around this place. Others only pop in for a quick hello before moving on with others not connected to this group.<\/span><\/p>\n Regardless, everyone is here at the same time, because this place is outside the circle.<\/span><\/p>\n When you arrive, the first thing you notice are a series of circular patio tables arranged outside the door. Several people you know are seated there, puffing cigars, because even in this place, there is no smoking inside. Several other people you know are standing over them, laughing, drinks in hand. <\/span><\/p>\n You talk awhile. When it\u2019s time to go inside, one of them stays seated, watching the road, waiting for someone. You offer to sit and wait with him, but he tells you that he\u2019s okay, and reminds you there is no time here, and besides, there\u2019s a table reserved inside for you, and others are there, waiting. She\u2019s there waiting, too. You tell him that\u2019s impossible, because you left long before she did. He chuckles, and explains once again how time works outside the circle. Smiling, you squeeze his shoulder and follow the others into the hotel.<\/span><\/p>\n Inside, someone shouts \u201cKeene!\u201d across the room the way he always does whenever your paths cross. You smile and wave, but before you can do anything else, someone else sweeps you off your feet in a great big bear hug. There is no time outside the circle, but there is also no pain, and it doesn\u2019t hurt when he does this, nor does it hurt when someone else who used to be a kickboxer squeezes your hand or when the guy who invented his own martial art slaps you on the back. <\/span><\/p>\n You make your way through the crowd, and everyone is glad to see you. Everyone is in their own groups, seated at their own tables. Some gather in large, loud parties. Others huddle in small, quiet corners. A few prefer to sit alone. But everyone is together, regardless of their seating arrangements, and everyone is smiling. <\/span><\/p>\n Outside the circle, everything is smiles, and the only sound is laughter.<\/span><\/p>\n At the back of the room is your table, and she\u2019s sitting there, along with your friends, who you\u2019ve been waiting to see again. The smiles can power solar systems.<\/span><\/p>\n It is an excellent evening. Occasionally, you visit the other tables, or the folks from the other tables visit yours. A few people use their phones to check on those still in the other place. At one point, a friend best known for writing comedic horror and another friend who doesn\u2019t like pickles harangue you about ripping off the afterlife from the season finale of <\/span>Lost<\/span><\/i>, and how this place is all your fault, but they say it with smiles and laughter and love.<\/span><\/p>\n Eventually, everyone has to leave. Maybe it\u2019s last call or time for a panel or a signing, or maybe there is other business to take care of. But you cannot stay here. Some depart together. Others leave on their own. Regardless, you all leave together. You say goodbye to everyone as you all file out. One by one, folks step out onto the road. There\u2019s a light shining on the horizon. They walk toward it.<\/span><\/p>\n