Let’s call him Bob, though to call a soul not attached to a physical body by name is pointless. Bob has been through countless lives, not just the garden variety sorts like handmaiden to Cleopatra or solider at the Battle of Hastings. Bob’s numerous life experiences are far-flung throughout the universe. And while he relishes each one, he’s never entirely sure when he’s “resting” between lives which specific image, experience or moment belongs with which life. It’s all a bit of a blur. This might explain why, when he sees his next life assignment on the “big board”, he’s unsure of what earth in the early part of the twenty-first century means.  Is it the place where he drank wine, was fed succulent figs and goats or battled frostbite and stand storms?