Whatever / Whenever

I visited my home two weeks ago.
Not my home of now, but my home of then. It was amazingly unchanged, kind of.
The sidewalk is the same, the house is gone.
The corner is the same, the tree is gone.
Marie's house is the same, Marie is gone.
The fall smelled crisp, the old field had neatly mown grass.
The rain trickled down the window, neatly whisked away by automatic windshield wipers.

I had the strange sense of being in two places at once, wrapped in a mental time machine that never moved; it just tweaked my senses.