It was a message from the future. Not
much, nothing solid or indisputable, just a search that never
happened. An acknowledgement of the postcard. A nod to the 'bogus' info on the iPod.
There were things that he remembered,
but didn't. A kind of mental muscle memory that avoided conscious
recall. Something that would reveal the paradox. It seemed that
no-one from the 'future' wanted to break the 'present'. It seemed
reasonable enough. If tiresome.
It was a glimmer of hope that something
beyond the obvious existed. It was refreshing. Too long it seemed
he was overly grounded in the plainest of circumstances. He dreamed
of being surrounded by a cloud of force lines, illustrated on a
whiteboard animation with a few primary marker colours.
No comments:
Post a Comment