In (Future) Memory of an Absent Father
by A.W. Prihandita Mrs. Suparti walks into the classroom and writes on the whiteboard, “Family History Assignment,” and that’s how I know she’s done teaching Foresight and is now back to Retrospection, coaxing us to feel the past. More than one sigh of disappointment echoes in the classroom. I do not sigh. Foresight is the most coveted Intuition—many of us would spend the whole year chasing only that—but at this point, I’ll take whatever I can get. We are fourteen years old, some of us fifteen, all of us in the ninth grade, the last year of junior high school. This is when those of us who haven’t figured out our Intuition start fidgeting in our seats. We know everyone will stare in pity if we walk into graduation not knowing what we are. Because what will we do in high school, then? Futurists take classes that set them up to be investment bankers, policy makers, climate forecasters—highly respected jobs. Most Presentists are in the service industry, of course, or psychotherapy, them ...
