text: The sun-bleached envelope was no longer crisp but textured with a layer of age. John slid his gnarled fingers along the dried-out seal so he could wheedle out its contents. A folded piece of paper dropped to his lap followed by a second. His name was written on the top of each: one with the notation "age 20" written beneath and one tagged "age 25." The familiar handwriting on them was the same script as on the front of the envelope. It was his handwriting. He lowered the envelope to his lap with trembling hands and opened the page labeled "age 20." John blinked to clear the floaters from his eyes then squinted through the thick lens perched on his nose. To John (ie. future me), I don't know if you will remember writing this, but before too much happens I want to put some things down on paper. Okay, where to begin? You may, or may not, still be working at Tech Corp Advantage by the time you read this, but there's where I am right now. Dr. Whinehouse recommended me after my first semester and I was pretty much hired on the spot. Of course, you already know this since it's in your past, but I want to create some context. Do you remember all the fuss over product distillation, specifically nutrient distillation? Do you remember being asked to be on the research team to help refine the process? Well, I've been in that department for four months now and it's amazing. The things we're working with and all the possibilities that are opening up... well... I can't really put much on paper because of confidentiality but the products we've started to develop are going to make a world of difference. Seriously, we're in the process of designing something that will benefit everyone and everyone is going to want it. I want it. I'm mostly writing this because I want to remember how good everything feels right now. I'm on a great team, working with some super smart, and I mean really smart, guys right now. We get along at work and feed on each other's energy. And the parties after work are... I probably shouldn't put too much of that on paper either. Just know that next week I'm being moved from refinement into product testing. They asked for volunteers and of course I said yes. I know there are risks, but that's a given with anything in life, right? I mean, the chance to test out what we've been working on is just too good of an opportunity to pass by. Of course there will be set backs, but whatever it is I believe we can find a solution. You must know that being on the other side of this already. You've seen the obstacles that arise and have had to work through them. I'm still at the beginning and am excited to take the next step. This is going to change everything for me, and I mean everything. I hope you're in a place to agree with me on this. I hope the world is in a better place because of what we've come up with. I guess you'll know these answers before I will. Sincerely, John, age 20 John stared at the sheet of paper as it shook in his unstable grip. His eyes skimmed each of the words without really dwelling on what they meant individually or as a unit. A small part of him recalled composing the letter, but if felt like such a long time ago. He dropped the page and picked up the second sheet labeled "age 25". He cleared his eyesight again. To John (ie. future me), I don't know where you are in life right now. I don't even know if you'll get the chance to read this, but things don't always go the way we plan, do they? I guess you have already experienced this. You're probably looking back and regretting a lot of things. I know I've started to amass a few of those. As I'm sure you can attest, the initial trials of the new product were successful. I can still recall the absolute elation I felt, the wholeness and wellness that came from the daily prescription. It had all the benefits of a balanced diet without all the restrictions. I never felt like I was hungry or undernourished and I never had the sluggishness that comes from overeating. I could also clearly think and reason no matter the time of day or night because my metabolism never had to slow every other function in my body down in order to perform its task. In that first year, I (we) accomplished so much. If only it could've been sustained. Right now we're working on a solution for some of the complications that arose. Those of us in the first and second series of testing have been moved back into development. We're looking at why the effects seem to decrease over time. I'm sure you already know all that we faced and have yet to face. That's the nice thing about being able to look back. You don't have to wonder about finding a solution to the degradation. You don't have to wonder if it can be reversed. There's a bit of doubt that's crept into the back of our minds. The most recent tests show that while the drug increased daily productivity and physical wellness, the long term effects may to do the exact opposite. I know I've noticed a difference, but I could just be paranoid. We're still compiling data. Between all of us involved in the trials there's a wide range of complications, but it's too soon to know if this is the extent of it or if there will be more down the road. We also don't know if it's temporary or permanent. Side effects are a reality in any developmental phase. We knew that going into this, but what will ours entail? Will we go back to the way we were before or will we be worse? The newest course of action is to introduce another drug to counter or slow the effects of the first medication so we can be weened onto the next iteration. Most are hopeful, but I have my doubts. It's hard not to after the first failure, especially since I will have to live with whatever the consequences are. But you already know all of this. You've been through whatever lies ahead. You can attest if my fears about reactions and potential regression are founded. I really do hope a solution is found, but I fear it may come too late. Already my ability to focus wanes more each day. I feel more tired and weak in the limbs. If I take a new drug, or another in addition to the first, I fear it will not help as much as everyone would like to think. It may even hurt more than it helps, but I am too far into the process to back out now. I have come to the conclusion that I will lose a bit of who I am through this process, but hopefully a solution can be found that will benefit others. If I (we) are lost during this next phase it will still be worth it if others can be made whole later on. I hope you feel the same way about this wherever you are. You may also disagree with me entirely. Maybe all of our hopes and dreams are about to unravel. You are on the other side of all this and know what the outcome will be. Honestly, I am concerned that this new drug will not solve the problem. It may even exacerbate the situation. I'm saying it now on paper in case you need to use this in the future, although you won't really have any legal power to do so. I think we've signed our lives away. I think the damage is done and I don't know that there will ever be a cure. I hope I'm wrong, but I've lost faith in the belief that all the good of something can be extracted without all the bad coming along. I think it's a package deal and the more we try to separate the two parts the more we create ill effects, even effect that had not existed before. Again, I hope you're in a place to disagree, but... I guess I'll know what you know soon. Hopefully you'll still be around to read this and I'll be able to write another installment in the next five years. Until then, John, age 25 John's gaze slipped from the words as the page dropped to his lap. If only he had known what he was getting into sooner maybe things could have been different. Maybe he could have curbed his enthusiasm and used more rational thought. He stared at his hands, the way his skin was marked by spots and his knuckles had become hard knobs on the back of his hands. Within the last two years his strength had slipped away, his muscles diminishing until they could no longer bear his weight. He longed to leave the wheelchair he was bound to, but he could no longer move in it without help let alone stand. His chin sagged to his chest. He had been young and healthy once. He had embraced life's challenges and striven to gain more time by tweaking nature's design. But nature and the world had other plans. It had shown him just how small and naive he was. The reversal he had hoped to achieve had produced the opposite effect. He could not cheat death; no one could. Everyone has an end to face and running from it changes nothing. Perhaps a year or two more could be stolen away in a younger body, but that imbalance would eventually catch up. It would make those later years much worse to deal with. So was it worth it? Sitting in the commons room at a nursing home seemed to answer that question. Aching and arthritic, with his sight failing and his speech impaired, John knew the answer to that question. How foolish he had been in trying to beat the odds. If only he had known how much it would cost. He stared at the pages in his lap. That third letter would never be written. It was too late now. His gaze strayed to the plastic hospital band still strapped on his wrist. In neat print--almost too small for him see, let alone read--was written: JOHN TRUESET, AGE 28.