[ WP ] You 're close to death and instead of seeing your life flash before your eyes , you see your future life flash before your eyes .

I see a young adult woman with beautiful brown curls crouching and smiling at me, she ’ s huge. Everything is huge. Scratch that, I ’ m just small, and clumsy, very clumsy. 
 
 I ’ m bigger now, and am carrying some kind of backpack. The big woman is there again, smiling and waving at me from the porch of a reasonably large house. I enter a bus filled with people of about my height. I ’ m nervous. 
 
 Now I ’ m standing in front of a closed casket, barely able to look over it. A picture of the smiling woman with brown curls is standing on top of it. I feel tears rolling down my cheek. A strange man with a hard gaze is standing next to me, squeezing my shoulder. 
 
 I ’ m even bigger now and am staring out a plane window. Sitting next to me is the strange man from the funeral, wearing a business suit. Outside the window is the blackness of night, but a shore speckled with millions of lights is getting closer. 
 
 Now I ’ m typing a heartfelt message in a strange language on a tablet while sitting in what looks like a classroom with other students. A teacher is pointing at something on the digital board in front of the class, but I don ’ t care. I press send on the touchscreen and shoot a glance at a student with blonde hair sitting diagonally in front of me. 
 
 I ’ m in a bedroom filled with posters, trumpery, and an incredibly tacky bedsheet with the planet Mars on it. I ’ m so nervous, I ’ m almost shaking. The blonde student from before is sitting on the edge of the bed, looking about as nervous as I am. I walk over and put my hands on two unclothed shoulders before carefully pressing my lips forward. I feel my heart thump in my throat when our lips connect. 
 
 Now I have the height of an average adult and am more lying than sitting in a driver ’ s seat. I ’ m staring at an interface above the front window while the steering wheel moves without my interference. An unusual amalgamation of beats and melodies is coming from the car radio and I seem to like it. The screen I ’ m looking at shows an image of people in space suits walking on a reddish-brownish surface. A picture of a more mature version of the blonde student is in the corner of the screen. I ’ m experiencing some mix of proudness and elation. 
 
 I ’ m wearing a tight fitting formal suit. In front of me is a crowd of people holding signs and banners, hanging on to my every word. I slam my fist on the table with the microphone on it and the crowd starts cheering. An older man whose wrinkles are coming through walks over to me and I recognize him as the cold man from the funeral. He grabs my hand and holds it up high, like a referee from a boxing match. The crowd goes wild and I see a slight tug at the corner of the man ’ s mouth. 
 
 Now I ’ m inside a humongous room containing people of all ethnicities wearing either cultural clothing or a suit, me being in the latter category. There is a hint of levity all around me. A gigantic screen behind me lights up and shows the text: “ 200 for, 0 against, ” causing an eruption of applause. All kinds of people walk over to shake my hand and congratulate me. The entire room is filled with smiles and not much later I ’ m sitting behind a desk with a large document titled “ Combined Resource Human Expansion Program ” on it. I ’ m the first to write down my signature. 
 
 I ’ m definitely older now and am feeling my age. I ’ m standing on some kind of viewing platform from which multiple pillars can be seen on the horizon. One of these pillars is ascending, leaving behind a trail of smoke. Once it ’ s out of sight another one starts ascending, and so on. I stare at the blue sky and imagine the stars behind it, wallowing in my own accomplishment. The short moment of self-satisfaction is broken when important looking people – probably officials – behind me require my attention. Their expressions are grim. 
 
 I ’ m even older now and am staring out the window of a house. My gaze is fixed on the sky and I try to ignore the pandemonium in the streets. I think of the thriving Martian colony I helped build and smile, realizing that my efforts were well-timed. For a second I think I can see the meteor in the sky, but quickly realize it can ’ t be; the place of impact is nowhere near here. A voice comes from the screen behind me. “ We thank you for staying with us till the end, dear viewer. Impact in 10…, 9…, 8…. ” I take a last look at the pictures of the woman with brown curls, the man with the hard gaze, and the blonde student. I smile and close my eyes. 

