On the train, somewhere between Bleaker Street and Sunset Avenue her powers disappeared. Before, she’d been followed, liked, and “hash-tagged.” She’d been the center. But the conversation moved on. Now, she was ordinary.
She sighed, smiled, laughed, cackled even, till the man next to her took a video and posted it.
Interdimensional Identity Theft
Dimension hopping takes a lot out of you. Meeting yourself and loved ones in new, exotic places is fun but exhausting. Plus replacing yourself and getting rid of the body takes work, even if I never suspect me. But soon enough the boredom sets in, and I’m dimension hopping again.