They call me Edgar, but I know that wasn’t always my name. I don’t remember anything about my former life, when I was using a different body, but Viola was kind enough to fabricate an entire history for me. From what I’ve been told, the original Edgar was a terrible person, who liked to hurt people. He hurt me once, but just as I was on the brink of death, Viola pulled me back, and switched my mind with his. He died, I survived. But everything about my life was gone. I know what you’re thinking, Alma. If I lost all my memories, am I really that other person at all? Yes, because even though I can’t recall events, I still remember how I’ve always felt about things. I know that I like turkey, but I get tired of chicken. I know how to ride a bike, and where the bus station is. I can even remember what happened on my favorite TV shows, and what breed of dog Old Farmer Jones used to have to protect his sheep, before it died. No, not a sheep dog. And I know that I used to have a crush on Sallie. Unfortunately, she doesn’t remember anything about the original me. My entire former life was wiped clean off the face of the Earth. Even my parents, whomever it is they were, don’t think they had a kid. But that’s okay, because I have a new life, and I don’t remember anything but. I have Edgar’s body, my predecessor’s feelings and dispositions, and a brand new person’s memories. So which one of them am I? Far be it for me to get into the philosophy of identity, but I suppose I’m an amalgamation of all three...and none of them. I wish I could give you more, but I only have a year’s worth of real memories to work from. I’ve kind of just been winging it this whole time, hoping no one asked me anything I should know, but don’t. School’s been the easiest for me, though. Apparently, my predecessor was something of an intelligent individual, so I’m benefitting from all that hard work.
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The Advancement of Mateo Matic
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My name is Nick Fisherman III. It's not my real name, but that's not because I'm trying to hide from my former agency, or something. I named myself after someone I've known for most of my life, and he chose it in honor of his late best friend. I took up writing when I found myself failing 8th grade science, and realized I might never reach my dream of becoming a biochemist, a meteorologist, and a quantum physicist. I started developing my canon after a scouting trip to an island inspired what I thought would be my first novel. I founded this website upon the advice of many people, who told me I needed to get my work out there, and not wait for an agent to accept my manuscript. You can expect one new story every day. Weekdays are for microstories, which are one or two paragraphs long. They're usually only thematically linked, so you won't have to read one to understand another, but they do sometimes tell a combined story. Sundays are for my continuous longer story, The Advancement of Mateo Matic, which I started in the beginning, and won't end until 2066. Saturdays are for long series, most of which take place in the same universe as Mateo, and add to the larger mythology.
Wednesday, March 13, 2019
Microstory 1058: Edgar
Labels:
animals
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body switching
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consciousness
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death
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dog
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Earth
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emotions
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feelings
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food
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identity
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intelligence
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life
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memories
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memory
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microfiction
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microstory
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mind
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