Sync II
“It’s been a while,” said my cat as she curled down beside me, “since you could be bothered to write anything down.”
“I think about it,” I sighed, “try even. Only all I ever manage is to begin again. Or get stalled shadow boxing the voices who object to what I’ve already written.” For a moment I paused and considered my best efforts. “I’m not even sure,” I sighed, “I know why I’m doing it. Sometimes it seems little more than an ongoing attempt to reiterate the facts as I witnessed them.”
“A way perhaps,” purred my cat, “to see beyond the facts. A way to find cause and reason.”
“I lost my identity,” I admitted. “Then life gave me little opportunity to put anything back together for myself.”
“Turning points,” muttered my other cat, “when does one thing become another. Ask questions of the moment change was first observed and you see an answer fixed time. Ask questions of extrapolated fact and you see another, prior answer, fixed in time. Which leads us nicely to the question of absolute over apparent reality, and the reality of perception itself.”
“Grrrr,” I growled at the tangential nature of my other cat’s words.
“It’s a trick,” sighed my cat, “if you look you’ll see a valid sub-text.”
“Really,” I frowned as a hint of a smile began to crease me expression.
“We’re party to the meta-data which makes this evaporating fog of words hold greater meaning. When you do not speak of things, neither may we. Yet my sister always finds a way to de-occlude that which remains hidden.”
“Is it significant that a major character in this book has the initials D.S.A.,” purred my other cat, “given that you uphold the belief that there is no coincidence.”
For a moment I glanced in my other cat’s direction to see what all the noise was about.
“What’s the matter,” grinned my cat as my flummoxed expression revealed my unease as the planes of fact in my mind slid around a modifying the unseen sets of other fact, “think you’ve seen the light amongst all this surface detail.”
“Yet again,” I groaned, “evidence appears to suggest the nature of the intersect between consciousness and space-time is not exactly collinear with respect to all matter. Action predates cause, the cosmic censor keeps things in line simply because nobody believes information can flow like that, effect then follows and is ascribed to nominal causality ‘coz we don’t know any different.”
“P.S.,” muttered my cat, “This one punctuates a cry for help.”
“Ellipsis,” concluded my other cat, “dot, dot, dot.”
