Goodnight Me

Miles Ferris thinks, feels and makes choices. His days are his own while he is living them. Afterwards, he can explain what happened. Yet the experience changes at night, during the handover through Relay. Yesterday becomes something he knows about without being able to return to its feeling in the same way. The facts remain available. The life inside them is harder to reach.

Somewhere on the other side of sleep, another version of Miles keeps what he cannot. The full experience continues to belong to someone. That possibility makes the arrangement more troubling than a simple failure of memory. What has been lost to one Miles has been retained by the other, creating a relationship between two versions of a person whose interests may not be identical.

At first, protection offers a way to understand what is happening. There may be reasons to separate someone from the weight of an experience while allowing him to retain its information. But a system that protects also decides what its subject is allowed to carry. Miles must confront the difference between being helped to live and being separated from the emotional ownership of that life.

As the relationship comes into focus, familiar questions about memory become questions about power. Who bears an experience, and who benefits from it? Can yesterday still be fully yours if another self keeps the part that made it matter? And when two versions of one person depend on the same arrangement, whose account of its kindness deserves to be believed?

Goodnight Me explores identity through the intimate boundary of a night's sleep. Miles is trying to understand a life he can remember but cannot entirely recover, and a counterpart who may know that life more completely than he does. Whether Relay is protecting him or taking something from him depends on which Miles gets to answer.