By Gabriel Márquez
Usually, nostalgia is a rearview mirror. It is the ache for a time that has already dissolved into smoke. We look backward through a telescope made of sepia glass, missing the way the light hit the floorboards in a house we haven’t lived in for ten years.
But today, The Surrealists are turning the telescope around.
We are officially opening the doors to The Museum of Future Nostalgia. We invite you to walk through the velvet ropes to view a collection of artifacts from a time that hasn’t happened yet, but which we have decided—by sheer force of imagination—will be beautiful.
Anxiety is just imagination used poorly. It is writing a tragedy before the actors have even arrived at the theater. “Future Nostalgia” is the antidote. It is the radical act of visiting your joy before it arrives, so when it finally knocks on your door later this year, you can say: “Oh, I’ve been expecting you. Your room is ready.”
Current Exhibits on Display
Exhibit A: The Unlaughed Laugh Located in the Hall of Echoes. A glass jar containing the soundwave of a laugh you haven’t laughed yet. It is deep, unselfconscious, and startled out of you by a joke told by a stranger in a coffee shop in October. (Audio Guide: Sounds like a bell ringing underwater.)
Exhibit B: The Impossible Commute Located in the Transit Wing. A crumpled ticket stub for a train ride to a city that only exists on Tuesdays. The conductor accepts payment in secrets, and the windows show scenery from your favorite childhood dream. You are going there to meet the version of yourself who stopped worrying.
Exhibit C: The November Coat Located in the Textile Room. A heavy wool coat. In the left pocket, there is a receipt for a celebration dinner. In the right pocket, there is a hand that is holding yours. The hand is warm. You know exactly whose hand it is.
The Creative Prompt: “Remembering” November
For this week’s songwriting and writing challenge, we are asking you to hack your own timeline. We want you to write a memory from November 2026.
Do not write “I hope this happens.” Write “I remember when this happened.”
The Rules:
- Set the Scene: It is late 2026. The air is crisp.
- The Sensory Details: What color was the sky? (Was it a bruised purple? A victorious gold?) What song was playing in the background?
- The Event: Describe a moment of victory or peace in the past tense. Did you finish the album? Did you forgive the person? Did you finally learn how to make the perfect loaf of bread?
Example Entry: “I remember November 2026. The sky was the color of a bruised peach. I was sitting on the porch, and for the first time in three years, my shoulders weren’t touching my ears. The song playing was ‘Bet On It’ by Clyde Lawrence. I looked at the notebook in my lap and realized the blank page wasn’t a threat anymore; it was an invitation.”
Leave your “memory” in the comments below, or turn it into a verse. The future has already happened; we’re just waiting for the rest of the world to catch up.