People talk about other dimensions, parallel universes that are almost exactly like this one but for one decision or one event that changed everything. I catch myself sometimes wondering about the world where the Serbian Army did not storm Srebrenica in 1995. It’s a foolish dream because if it exists surely there is another me living there, having grown up under my mother and father…his mother and father. I think though it would be nice to see them from a distance, living their lives, interacting in that way that people who have spent their whole lives together do. That would be nice, to see them…loving each other with a look or touch.
I’d like to spend time walking the streets of my hometown that never knew murder on an industrial scale. Chatting with its neighbours both Christian and Muslim that never knew how to hate each other with bloody violence. And maybe, just maybe one night a young man who looks a lot like me would walk into cafe I just happen to be sitting in. I wave him over, his surprised to find someone that looks just like him and I would take a breath and say,
“Hi Amir, it’s so nice to meet you. Come sit and talk for awhile.”
Yeah,I’d like that.
A Strange Life 