[ WP ] You 're back home for the first time in years . This is where you grew up . It seems like the more things change , the more they stay the same .

*Ding* 
 
 The glass door pivots and swooshes shut behind me. There's a man at the counter reading a magazine. He peers up at me, nods, and looks back down, his eyes scanning. I look around at the shop. My eyes spy a Snickers bar. 
 
 I have n't seen chocolate in 23 years. 
 
 I grab one of those and, after some deliberation, also a stick of fruit chewables. I drop the items on the counter and smile. 
 
 `` Will that be all?'' The man asks. It's him, alright. His face is a bit off, eyes too crooked, beard too long, symmetry too symmetrical. But there's no mistaking Mr. Hewitt. 
 
 `` You know, the federation does n't allow us to say *mister* anymore,'' I say, glancing at the prostrate magazine, the visible spread of pages blank white. It's alright, I never expect much from psychocoders. 
 
 `` Huh?'' He asks. The AI is trying to understand what I mean in the context of the purchase and it's not easy. I should n't be so cruel. Hewitt's eyes are glassy, his skin is wrinkled and purple at spots. I wonder when he died. 
 
 `` I'd like to buy these,'' I say and nudge forward the bar and the bag, looking around me at the rest of the store, the cooler in the wall, the rack of magazines. My dad used to stop here all the time for cigarettes. Sometimes he'd get a bouquet for mom if Hewitt's had fresh ones around. I look for one now but there were none at all. 
 
 `` Of course,'' Hewitt says, smiling now and finding purpose in his code. He snatches the items up and runs them through the register. I pay and thank him. 
 
 `` Oh, Greg,'' Hewitt says as I'm pushing open the door ( *ding* ). 
 
 `` Yeah?'' I turn. 
 
 `` How's your dad? Was here just yesterday, you know. Grabbed my last dozen for your mother. Seemed in good spirits.'' 
 
 `` You.. I.. You saw him yesterday?'' I'm not sure what to make of this. Would they have? For a grunt like me? We're talking hours of memory mining, and then the coding, and then— 
 
 `` Yeah, yeah, that's what I said. Say, I could use a little break. Why do n't you grab us two sodas and I'll tell you all about it?'' 
 
 I do n't hesitate. When I get back to the front of the store with the drinks, Hewitt's got two rickety stools set out front and leans into one with a sigh. I hand him a coke and he cheers me in the air before cracking it open and sipping. 
 
 `` Ahh,'' he says. `` Nothing quite like the first sip. So as I was saying, Greg...'' Hewitt and I talk for what's left of my VR ration about dad and mom and little furry Mr. Killjoy and Montana and how the federation used to be little more than an idea and how ships could n't even get out of the Milky Way. 
 
 I listen intently to this program tell me what I already know—it has gotten it from my memories. I do n't care why it knows what it knows. I really miss earth. And I really, really, *really* miss mom and dad.
