Trivia. I only found out when one of my (many) credit cards was refused. Then a debt collection agency letter arrived. Finally, some landlord of office space told me I was 9 months in arrears and I had two days to remove my stuff.

I repeated the story again. I couldn't remember how many times now, but it was burned into my memory.

"As you said in your statement to the police. Word for word, in fact. Impressive." the Prosecutor slowly clapped, keeping an eye on the Jury, but expertly mindful of annoying the Judge. "Now could you please tell the jury why you shot the President of the United States?"

I knew he was asking only to make me sound crazy. "I came back from the future and told myself I had to do it." As I said this, I looked straight up at the gallery, hoping someone would follow my gaze and see me sitting there shaking my head. Then I watched myself stand up, making my way to the exit.

"I… I mean he, the real killer, is up there!" I stood shouting and pointing.

The Judge banged his gavel. "Clerk, please put him back in the restraints."

The Prosecutor made a great play of scouring the balcony. "Let it be stated for the record that there is no time traveller sitting in the Gallery…" he smiled smugly.