Lloyd looked at the clock sitting on one of the shelves mounted against the dark red walls of his apartment. It was 21h30 — meaning it'd only be 1:30 in the afternoon at the Colorado/Utah border, where Dinosaur National Monument was located; Lloyd had been there himself once. He thought for a few minutes more, then picked up the phone, spoke to a directory-assistance operator, and finally to a woman who worked in the gift shop at Dinosaur Monument.

"Hello," he said. "I'm looking for a particular item — a paperweight made out of malachite."

"Malachite?"

"It's a green mineral — you know, an ornamental stone."

"Oh, yes, sure. The ones we've got have little dinos on them. We've got one with a T. rex, one with a Stegosaurus, and one with a Triceratops."

"How much is the Triceratops?"

"Fourteen ninety-five."

"Do you do mail order?"

"Sure."

"I'd like to buy one of those and send it to… " He stopped to think; where the heck was Duke? "To North Carolina."

"Okay. What's the full address?"

"I'm not sure. Just put 'Professor Raymond Alexander, Duke University, Durham, North Carolina.' I'm sure it'll get there."

"UPS?"

"That would be fine."

Keyclicks. "The shipping is eight-fifty. How'd you like to pay for it?"

"On my Visa."

"Number, please?"

He pulled out his wallet, and read the string of digits to her; he also gave her the expiration date and his name. And then he hung up the phone, settled back into the couch, and folded his arms across his chest, feeling quite satisfied.

Dear Dr. Simcoe:

Forgive me for bothering you with an unsolicited email; I hope this makes it through your spam filter. I know you must be inundated with letters ever since you went on TV, but I just had to write and let you know the impact my vision had on me.

I'm eighteen years old, and I'm pregnant. I'm not very far along — only about two months. I hadn't told my boyfriend yet, or my parents. I thought getting pregnant was the worst thing that could have possibly happened: I'm still in high school, and my boyfriend will start university in the fall. We both still live with our parents, and we have no money. There was no way, I thought, that we could bring a child into the world… and so I was going to have an abortion. I'd already made the appointment.

And then I had my vision — and it was incredible! It was me, and Brad (that's my boyfriend) and our daughter, and we were all together, living in a nice house, twenty-one years down the road. My daughter was all grown up — even a little older than I am now — and she was so beautiful and she was telling us about how she was seeing this guy at school, and could she bring him over for dinner one night, and she knew we'd just love him, and of course we said yes, because she was our daughter and it was important to her, and…

Well, I'm babbling. The point is that my vision let me see that things were going to work out. I canceled the abortion, and Brad and I are looking for a small place to live together, and, to my surprise, my parents didn't freak and they're even going to help us a bit with expenses.

I know a lot of people will be telling you how their visions ruined their lives. I just wanted you to know that it improved mine enormously, and that it actually saved the life of the little girl I'm carrying inside me now.

Thank you… for everything.

Jean Alcott

Dr. Simcoe,

You hear on the news about people who had fascinating visions. Not me. My vision had myself in the exact same house I live in today. I was all alone, which isn't unusual — my kids are grown and my wife is often busy with her work. Indeed, although a few things looked different — furniture slightly rearranged, a new painting on one wall — there was nothing to give any real indication that this was the future.

And you know what? I like that. I'm a happy man; I've got a good life. That I'm going to have another couple of decades of precisely the same life is a very soothing thought. This whole vision thing has turned a lot of people's lives upside down, apparently — but not mine. I just wanted you to know that.

Best wishes,

Tony DiCiccio

Brooklyn, New York: Okay, there was this American flag in my dream, right? And it had, I think, 52 stars: a row of 7, then a row of 6, then 7, then 6, like that, for a total of 52. Now, I'm figuring that the 51st star, that must be Puerto Rico, right? But it's driving me crazy trying to guess what the 52nd might be. If you know, please e-mail…

Edmonton, Alberta: I am not smart. I have Down's Syndrome, but I am a good person. In my vision, I was talking and using big words, so I must have been smart. I want to be smart again.

Indianapolis, Indiana: Please stop sending me email saying that I will be the President of the United States in 2030; it's flooding my mailbox. I know I'll be President — and when I come to power, I will have the IRS audit anyone who tells me again…

Islamabad, Pakistan (autotranslated from the original Arabic): In my vision, I have two arms — but today, I have only one (I am a veteran of the India-Pakistan ground war). It didn't feel like a prosthesis in the vision. I'd be interested in hearing from anyone who has any information on artificial limbs or possibly even limb regeneration twenty-one years hence.

Changzhou, China (autotranslated from the original Mandarin): I am apparently dead in twenty-one years, which does not surprise me for I am mightily old now. But I would be interested in any news of the success of my children, grandchildren, or great grandchildren. Their names are…

Buenos Aires, Argentina: Almost everybody I've spoken to is celebrating a holiday or is off work during the Flashforward. Well, the third Wednesday in October isn't a holiday anywhere I know of in South America, so I'm thinking maybe we've gone to a four-day workweek, with Wednesdays off. Me, I'd prefer a three-day weekend. Anybody know for sure?

Auckland, New Zealand: I know four of the winning numbers in the New Zealand Super Eight draw of October 19, 2030 — in my vision, I was cashing a ticket that earned a $200 prize for matching those four numbers. If you know other winning numbers in the same lottery, I would like to pool my information with yours.

Geneva, Switzerland (posted in fourteen languages): Anybody with information about the murder of Theodosios ("Theo") Procopides, please contact me at…