Reflected in the Stars

My name is Orion. My parents named me after the constellation. The Greeks named the constellation after a man from one of their many myths. He's most well-known for his death. Even though it's also written that he was the "greatest hunter" and able to slay any animal in existence, most people knew him only for his death. To a scorpion. Not even an exaggerated monstrous one, which most creatures from those kind of myths are. It was a little tiny one. It makes me feel bad whenever I think about it. Imagine being the best at what you do, with no equal, to not only die in such a pitiful way, but that same death essentially being your reputation until the end of time. That must suck. I know that his existence and exploits are made-up, but stories by their nature, whether reality or fiction, are meant to evoke emotion. And we do share the same name after all. I'm allowed to feel bad. But I can't claim to fully understand.

I am 19 years old. I'm part of the first generation of people who grew up knowing that we were going to live forever. I say grew up, but I have lived but a droplet in the infinite sea which is going to be my existence. So technically I have an eternity to keep growing up. So does everyone else. This is all thanks to human ingenuity. While research from almost a thousand years ago has allowed humans to extend their lives a few centuries, a recent breakthrough found what is essentially a cure to death. Even before this medicine for immortality had been discovered, there has been peace in the world. Long lives lead to overpopulation and conflict for resources, but rather than causing the destruction of society as a whole, the world's greatest minds came together and created technology which allowed the support of humanity's now never-ending population.

My favorite color is red. But not exactly. It's definitely red. But definitely not the red that first pops into your head when you try to picture the color. I don't like that red. I like a different kind of red. It's, you know, the good red. Actually I don't even like most shades of red. Just this one kind. It's hard to describe. Not because it's a complicated hue or anything. it's just that I don't want you to picture the wrong red. I could say it's an orangish red but I already know that you'd think of the wrong red. It'd be a disservice to the red that I like to be misidentified as the one you'd visualize from my insufficient descriptors. That's why I'd prefer you'd take my word for it and understand that I like the best kind of red. The one in my head. I mean it's not only in my head, it's out there in the world as well, but I can't really give you a good example. I mean, I can, but it's complicated. You wouldn't understand. I'd show you if I could. Its a beautiful red. A kind of red that makes you happy to have sight. It might not be an exaggeration to say that its a kind of red that when seen, makes me happy to be alive. I like that red. I say like but it's closer to love than like. But I can't say love because I don't even know what to call it. It being the red. My red. Well it's not mine obviously. But I don't know what else to call it.

My favorite animal is the Dachshund. Also known as the Weiner dog. I like them because they're funny in both name and appearance. Not much more to it. 

Ironically, my favorite food is the sausage. But not the German Frank, Spicy Italian or Mexican Chorizo. The little tiny breakfast ones. The links not the stupid patties. I despise the patties. They are incomparable to the greatness of the links. I can't believe that there are people who'd prefer the patties over the links. I'm not hardheaded enough to not understand that they're technically made from the same thing. But it's just not the same, okay? The pure happiness I get in the morning from popping my breakfast sausage links into the instantaneous temperature conductor, taking them out at the perfect heat, biting the crispy outer layer, piercing into the soft innards of the meat, the savory juices full of flavor flowing into my mouth, and finishing off with licking my fingers of all of which remained, is a feeling I could never get from the inferior patties.

Anyways, that's why I could never get a pet Weiner dog. I'd feel way too guilty. Just thinking about the adorable puppy's eyes looking up at me while I eat it's estranged cousin, however many times removed, just hurts my heart. They are both cute little sausages but one of them just tastes too delicious for their own good. And imagine if I were to drop one by accident. Cannibalism. 

I work for WTF. Most people think it's an acronym but it's actually an initialism. The difference is that you pronounce the individual letters instead of the word. So you would say "DOUBLE U TEE EFF" instead of whatever strange spitting sound comes from attempting to verbalize the letters put together (try it). It stands for Welcome to The Future. It's a program that was created with a radical goal in mind. To bring everyone from all of human history into our present. Which is their future. Hence the name. This idea was of course heavily challenged when first proposed, due no one wanting to mess up the space time continuum or what-not. However, many years of studying and manipulating how time-travel worked revealed that we could bring people from throughout history to our time without consequence. So while WTF, and its ultimate goal of peace for everyone that has ever existed, has been around for some time now, only very recently have the attempts to adapt the people from the past to the future begun. There is no concrete procedure for the conversion that works for every person, since they not only come from different times throughout history, they also have their own identities as individuals. But for the most part, the few trials that have been done yielded successful results. Even though I say I work for WTF, I've only been here for a couple weeks. All I've been doing so far is shadowing "experienced" convertors to try and learn the ropes. But today, I finally get to do my very own conversion. Ever since I was 4 and first heard of WTF, I knew that this was what I wanted to do for the rest of my life. Even though my parents named me after the stars, shining for the future, I fell in love with the past. It feels like I've been waiting for this moment for forever. But now my dream has finally begun.

I am currently being chased with murderous intent by a Roman soldier named Gaius Titus Sextus.