A dance across eternity

A dance across eternity

There is no nobler thing a thinking thing to do, than to think. And not then just of things, but of everything. There is an entire universe held in the mind and we may explore it at our leisure, we may decipher and build, may dissect and penetrate everything in the great vast 'out there', all the while not moving a centimetre. We are the universe and it has long been held as a belief that there exists some imprint of that universe in the multitude of our minds.

0.0000004

Half way through. Walking along a path within a regular ol' park, the like of which was devastatingly common, was a young woman. She's most likely in her mid 20s, though if you asked anything in the universe she'd be regarded as unbelievably young, inconceivably young. There are planets that take longer to complete 1 regular ol' orbit than she has been alive. And yet she is special, she is special and takes the most special and amazing thing about her life and existence for granted every waking moment, and most of the slumbering ones too. The thing most special about her is not the insane improbability of her birth (as she was 1 sperm of over 250,000,000... equating to a 0.0000004% chance of success). Or even that she was composed of atoms that exist only because a star burned them into existence! No it's not that. She is special because this, right now, is the very oldest she's ever been. It is not her birthday mind you, nowhere near, and yet no matter where she is or what she'd doing, she's the very oldest she's ever been. And all this is made the more special by the sheer fact that she is her oldest at the exact same time that the universe is at its very oldest. Because right now is the oldest the universe has ever been. But though this is the most special thing about her, perhaps the most remarkable thing is how utterly certain of the tedious nature of her existence she is. She sees nothing special in the world, it just is to her. And so, not for this reason you understand... or for any other reason, in fact for no reason in the universe any could distinguish other than that the show must go on, something happened.

She walked with a chip in her step and something of a smile on her face; it was altogether a good day! Perhaps it was her assertion that this day was good because it was not raining, the sun was not a sweltering and oppressive force, and she'd had a good tea earlier. Whatever the reason for it, it was her assertion. Perhaps it was her assertion that this was a good and altogether day that made it such an extraordinary dissonance to her when she saw a tree ahead of her blow up. It had been a respectably and well behavedly ordinary tree just a moment beforehand, and she was quite annoyed to see it blow uuuuuuuuhup, but it did and she saw it, she was the only one capable of perceiving it as it happens. The trunk of this tree shattered into far far too many pieces. The shattered trunk of the tree stopped in the air during their flight and hung suspended while the top of the tree remained perfectly in place like it simply hadn't noticed that the disturbance below. Rachelle noticed of course, and she'd have begun to freak right out but her attention was immediately drawn again to something of a rather different and yet equally absurd event. From the very heart of the exploded tree came, of all things possible, came a leaf. It was not a regular leaf of course, but a gold leaf... not like... gold leaf, but a leaf that was gold. It flitted through the air leading from the stem and seemed to fly by the edges. For a short time the leaf made no move to take a serious direction but then rather soon another tree burst in the exact same way and into it the leaf darted at and disappeared in. Then the tree it vanished into recapitulated and sat still. Rachelle watched this incredulously and turned to the first tree that blew up expecting it to have reassembled in the same way. Neither made any noise or sound so this was not an unreasonable thing to think. But it hadn't; it was just there, blown up as it was before. Now as far as wildly unreasonable things go what occurred next was just so. A man warped out the tree and started walking nonchalantly in between the bits and shards of bark and tree. He walked right up to Rachelle where a top hat and a holding a small leather bound book. "Hello," he said cheerily. The man that she was looking at, she realised with insane clarity, felt to her like a brother. There was no other way she could see him but as a brother, so certain of it was she that she thought she recognised him. (This of course was just a trick of the 'fusiform gyrus' , the part of the brain that recognises faces by associating them with emotions which is much the quicker for recognition... nothing special). "Ummm... hello?" He said again. "Hi," she stammered. "Where did it go?" he asked. "Where did what go?" she asked. "Well what do you think I'm asking after? The thrush's that rushed over head 29 seconds ago?" She stared at him. "The leaf damn it!" She was staring still but now she pointed to the tree. "Splendid," he said and drew an imaginary sword. "Into the birch..." He looked at her. "Get it!?" He laughed deeply. "Anyway." He pointed his imaginary sword at the tree and it once more exploded.