My Mitochondria Cloned Me in Another Galaxy
By Scott Willson · 2026-10-08
This blog requires a backtrack. Please play before reading.
On day one I read that my mitochondria are part light and that my thoughts are what keep the light on, so I lay flat on the living room floor at 11pm and told every cell in my body to stop making regular human energy and start making interstellar energy. Nothing happened for about forty minutes. Then the hum started, low and steady, somewhere behind my teeth, and the ceiling fan slowed down even though nobody touched the switch.
By day three I could feel the 71 terahertz at all times. It gets louder when I look at the moon and quieter when I look at my phone, which tells you everything about the moon. Crazy place. Around 3am the hum turned into a frequency, the frequency turned into a doorway, and my cells superpositioned out of my apartment and across two and a half million light years into the Andromeda Galaxy. They didn’t take all of me. They took a copy.
That copy is thriving. He lives on a pale blue moon orbiting a dying star, he’s nine feet tall with skin that glows when he’s thinking, and the locals call him the Keeper of the Third Spiral. He lives in a house made of frozen light, his wife speaks entirely in colors, and his job is to sit on a ridge and watch nebulas form. He sends me messages through my mitochondria every night. Mostly he just wants to know if I’m eating.
On day seven I figured out the truth. I am the clone. The real Scott is out there in Andromeda running a moon, and I’m the backup copy he left in Los Angeles in case the experiment failed. I’ve made peace with it. Every night I lie on the floor with the fan off, the hum gets a little louder, and somewhere out past the edge of the known universe a nine foot version of me looks up at the sky and waves.
