In one of its possible scenes, a side character in Across The Grooves describes a concept. One of those ineffably existential sensations that it feels almost sacriligious to discuss aloud.
There are moments, he says (and he doesn’t put this forward as his own observation, but an ancient one independently noted by many others throughout history, across many cultures). There are moments of choice. Of course, every moment is one of choice, each milisecond the genesis of infinite diverging possibilities. But these ones are the ones we recognise as pivotal, the ones where our future was altered not by meaningless chaos and circumstance but by our own decision.
Last year I applied for a job.
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