Wormholes on Broadway

I finished work last night, called home for the usual "Do I need to pick anything up?" call and received instructions to get milk.
20 minutes later I pulled into the parking lot of the OK Economy on Broadway and headed inside.
There's a certain headspace that arises when you've had a long day and a quiet drive and the night is dark and snow is falling quiet and slow like it does in Christmas movies. I came out of the sparkling deep blue night into the blinding flourescents of a grocery store that hasn't changed in 25 years. A muddy trail across the tile started thick at the door where people had knocked the snow off of their shoes and melted away to gradually disappear deeper inside the store.
Something about that triggered a memory somewhere. Not a deja vu, but an actual image locked in some neuron. OK Economy, circa 1984, going to pick up powdered donuts with Ryan Townsend so that he could try to chat up the check out girl that was in her 20s. I got to thinking about places and time, and places in time and it occurred to me that somewhere in this universe there is a vantage point from which I could see 1984 me and 2009 me walking around OK Economy simultaneously. It occurred to me that just because that moment has slipped into the past doesn't mean it's not here anymore. Walking around the store I had the distinct feeling of walking through an ethereal wake of time, that all the events and moments those walls had seen were still there, rippling in tiny waves, collecting in corners in extra-dimensional eddies and swirls.
Anyway, it was one of those weird, surreal little moments I wanted to write down.