We have all the time in the world or so they say, right?

Strange, the things that come our way, stranger still, the means by which we come into such things. Yet this is the nature of time and the strange circumstances it brings, circumstances which can shape the course of a life in ways which are simply unfathomable.

I have a story to tell, a story I would find most difficult to believe if it weren't for the fact that it happened to me and could possibly happen again. ... This is the story of the memory stick, a simple USB flash drive, of the bottle that delivered it, and of the message that shattered any illusion I ever had about the order of things.

1.

The story begins, as so many do, with a desire for simplicity, the easy life, like seeing the path before you and knowing you want to walk down it at a leisurely pace, strolling alone with plenty of time to stop and smell the roses, but life is rarely that simple, is it?

Sometimes the path forwards is unclear, it may not always be conducive to leisurely strolls, and the ultimate destination can often be somewhat obscured.

It really doesn't seem all that long ago when I took a walk ... shoeless, as it so happened to be, with the ends of my trousers turned up a few inches or so ... along a beach on a pleasant summer's evening. The warmth of the sun, a couple hours or so away from descending completely over the horizon, lingered and the world around me appeared to be wrapped in the hush of fading daylight.

Doesn't seem all that long ago ... huh ... in all honesty, it wasn't all so long ago at all, strangely enough it also feels like it was a lifetime ago. Strange how time works, and this fact will become all the more ... odd as we go along.

As it had been, any time a nice day like that one decides to grace us with its presence, I always seem to be too swamped with work to take advantage of it. Work was definitely something I needed to take a break from, so I did. It could wait on me for a change.

So, getting away from it all, not letting anything worry me for at least that particular moment anyway, indeed was oh so nice as if I were stealing a certain taste of freedom, of which I was unaccustomed to. Taking things easy, with a large ice-cream in hand while having a nice cool breeze come directly right at my face and strolling along a sunny beach, all indeed felt fantastic.

Unaccustomed freedom indeed, although come to think of it, this particular moment has an all too familiar feel about it, almost as if I had lived it before while also knowing I hadn't.

The wide-open space of the beach, the salty sulfuric smell of the seaweed, the quick to melt ice-cream, all of it almost takes me right back to my youth, to a time when there would have been plenty of family trips to the beach with the siblings, parents, cousins, aunts and uncles.

Isn't it strange how a moment, a smell or even a song can do that, transport you away into your own private memory? This moment right here was, obviously enough, a different moment, a new moment, strangely, a new moment which didn't feel so ... new. What was to come for me would be and is stranger still.

The beach seemed to stretch out endlessly before me in all directions, being uncrowded as it was with the tide being quite a way out in the distance. Along my stroll, a fleeting glint of light not all so far from me was catching my attention, almost calling me to it. It was as if it were calling me.

The glint took me to a small mound with tufts of grass sprouting out from it in places. Odd how there was another set of footprints leading up to this mound. Anyhow, it was there where I saw it, half buried in sand and seaweed. How strange, ... a large clear glass bottle with a cork fixed deep into its neck was just there right before me.

Had it been washed ashore some time ago when the tide had been in somehow going unnoticed by anyone else up to the moment, I had come across it? That indeed had been something I thought at the time but knowing what it is I know now ... well, there were other footprints.

I picked up the bottle and there appeared to be some sort of computer component inside, some kind of memory stick perhaps. ... Something almost alien ... a message in a bottle but not traditional where once it may have been common for such a thing to have paper inside. Yeah, a modern-day message in a bottle if indeed there is a message.

Unfortunately, I needed a laptop or access to any kind of computer to get to the content of this message. Being where I was, I had no device of worth with me. This would not be the only immediate problem I would face as I would soon discover for when I uncorked the bottle, I found that its neck was too thin to allow this 'memory stick' to simply fall out of it.

'How the hell did someone get that in there?' I speak out loud to myself.

I was not going to smash the bottle right there on the beach. For one thing I definitely was not going to leave broken pieces of glass to just lay around on the sand, in a place where many people, including children, would walk bare foot and I was not going to attempt to carry broken glass around with me until I could come upon a safe way of disposing of it, so the bottle, the whole bottle, cork and memory stick and all were coming home with me, though for some reason or another I felt really guilty about taking it.

At the time I didn't know why I was feeling guilty. It was discovering a wad of cash and holding onto it for myself rather than handing it into authorities. This was something I had found, no one else around had even noticed the thing let alone attempt to make any sort of claim for it, and even so, I attempted to hide it as I made my way to exit the beach.

I don't know, but maybe there was something deep within me that told me that this bottle, this memory stick, it is mine, it was meant for me. If anything, if the footprints are anything to go by, what I have was left for me. Whatever may be the case, I am taking this bottle and what's in it and no one else is going to have it. Strange huh? Trust me, we're only getting started.

It wasn't all so long before I was to arrive home, despite finding myself coming across at least one or two distractions along the way. These distractions, the less said about at this moment the better. I didn't understand them at the time and still don't now, at least I can assume a few things at this point.

Having arrived to safely sit within my apartment, with the bottle resting next to my laptop on front of me ... silently mocking me with a challenge or two, begging me, no taunting me into solving these mysteries. With light fading beyond the window, I moved to draw the curtains.

Being alone though feeling watched, I tiptoed through my own space adjusting lighting ensuring a dim level. Soon to return to a seated position clutching a hammer in one hand and a coffee in another. Breaking the bottle was more cumbersome than I imagined, causing glass to scatter into many pieces and my coffee to splash, thankfully avoiding damaging contact with the laptop.

The day really seemed to be getting away from me, still there was enough determination within me to at least try get an answer or two. Laptop powered on and the memory stick inserted I would find just one file. Frustration hit with the discovery of it being encrypted, totally inaccessible. Again, I am mocked, my limited technical skills stalling any and all progress.

Stumped but not quite, for a thought came to me. I thought of this one friend of mine, I do have more than one friend, believe it or not, but this one is a person whose knowledge of computers far exceeds mine and this person is one I trust without reservation, safe to say, we have been through a mill or two together and lived to recall such tales with him.

My need for trust and an assurance of hush may provide further mystery, at least when explaining things to my friend for I needed help, and I needed an assurance for myself in hope that nothing sinister would come from all this.

If I were to tell him, I didn't really care about what I might find and that I'm not at all worried then I really wouldn't be particularly honest with him or myself, and he would see right through this.

This weirdness, this oddness, the fear associated with why I needed to implicitly trust someone to help me get into this file, it is all so ... I don't know how to put it ... something almost clandestine. Trying to comprehend the feelings that seemed to be attached all of this, whatever this is or was, was most definitely something beyond me. It's almost as if I've been here before.

Out and about it was just by chance that I would happen to come into contact with my friend, the very same friend who may be able to help me. Imagine that. Coincidence? Maybe, but I like to think that some things happen for a reason; well at least I used to think that way. Fate? There once was a time I'd straight up believe such a thing. Now? ... well.

Yeah, I had yet to contact him, yet to let him know anything, yet to ask anything of him, and yet they he was ... out in the wild, with us about to make accidental contact, like what really are the chances?