A Curious Confluence Chapter Thirty Five: Side by Side

I continued reading the journal for quite a while.

The calvados went down with extreme ease.

There were things that I read that were beyond my ability to cope. I recognized my printy-writy form of cursive. So I was sure that at some time I had written what I was reading. But what was being said was beyond my scope of cope.

I remembered none of it. That is to say, I remembered writing none of it. That it all was some sort of amazing fantasy was obvious. That went without saying. But I should have remembered writing it.

But I did not.

I sat and sipped and thought.

Then I did the only thing that I could think of doing. I did the only thing that, in an irrational set of circumstances, made any sense to me.

I went to the little bed chamber – the one where the third door had (it didn’t but it should have) truncated me – and looked for the two tangible artifacts that I had from the various flights into something else that have led me to this point.

I looked to see if I really did have, as I thought to be the case, two pieces of flint.

I did have them.

Then it occurred to me that I should have one other artifact. I fervently hoped that I didn’t because if I did I was hopelessly gone into some wormhole of time and space that I didn’t understand and from which I knew that I would not be able to escape. But I reached for my wallet and flipped to one of the clear plastic window envelopes.

There was a twisted mass of several strands of hair.

“Great” I thought. “So now what?”

I sat there at the dinner table and went into as close to a vegetative state as I was able to summon up. I was pretty nearly worn out. I didn’t want to need to deal anymore with whatever it was that had been happening to me. I just …

I was bathed in a glow that was not the green of a passing tour boat or the gold of the somewhat distant but still influential – from a light in the apartment point of view – Hôtel de Ville – but was instead a sort of golden brown orange glow.

It came from the two pieces of flint that lay in front of me on the table.

I didn’t want to know.

I didn’t have the energy.

I took my calvados to the couch and sat down. I put the calvados on the little table that sat in front of the couch. I sat there for an extended period. I looked out the casement and could see the top of Hôtel de Ville glowing on the skyline. I took a sip. And then I picked up the journal which was lying on the cushion next to me.