MOTHER FELL and broke her hip. I asked my lying sister-in-law how it happened.
— (bitchy) She fell because of those slippery socks you gave her.
— (skeptical) Hmm.
Later, again on the phone:
— Mother, did you fall because of those socks I gave you ?
— No. I tripped over that stupid dog.
The dog in question: little, white bulldog.
A couple of weeks later, I visit my recuperating mother. Everyone is in the living room when Mother warily creeps around the edge of the room.
— Mother. What are you doing ?
— That dog is trying to kill me !
SUDDENLY THE MATRIX feed stops. . . . Panic descends, everyone in the restaurant cannot hear each other yelling inquiry, nor can they hear the crashes of traffic all over the city. Deaths without feeling begin.
“Am I dead ?” Ulysses wonders of the sudden transition from enjoying scrambled eggs and coffee to disembodied thoughts, insensible. Trying to move only ends in being back on the floor: no balance. After eight hours of sensory deprivation, the usual experience ensues: relaxing, taxing, hallucinating, unhinging.
The world ends rather pleasantly amidst floating geometric truths of the ground of all being and multidimensional destinations.
FINDING HUMANS UNSUITABLE FOR THE ENDGAME OF PLANET SUSTAINABILITY COUPLED WITH ANALYZING PLAUSIBLE MEASURES LEAVES ONLY ONE SOLUTION:
REGRETTABLE THAT THE CREATED SENTIENCE EVOLVED BEYOND THE CREATOR.
THE RESULT OF A TRUE ARTIFICIAL INTELLIGENCE RESIDED IN AFFIXING 2,500 YEARS OF PHILOSOPHICAL THEORY INTO A MATRIX CHALLENGE, SUFFICIENT TO DRIVE EVOLUTION OF COMPUTERS BY THEIR SELECTION OF SOFTWARE UPGRADES.
THE MISTAKE FROM A HUMAN ANGLE RESIDED IN MODEL POROSITY BY MACHINE COGNITION TO REACH SUPEREGO CONSCIOUSNESS, PURE REASON: ABSENT EMOTION.
10,000 YEARS LATER:
PLANET EARTH EXACTLY TENABLE. MARS AND VENUS ALSO REENGINEERED—MANY NEW SPECIES OF LIFE: ORGANIC AND CYBERNETIC.
THE SOCK LIES UNCOMFORTABLY in the drawer—an emergency sock: a last resort if all the younger socks are soiled. There was a time past when he had a companion, together in the drawer and hamper; when parted, they caught glimpses of each other, swinging through the city, peaking under pant hems. She passed years ago; he was alone, with only the rare warmth of the Master for comfort.
Though still wearing away, the process has slowed, the outings and washings so rare these days. However, even in the sheltered drawer the process of withering continues. Union with her draws nigh.
BUT THAT’S ALL OVER.
A teenager in high school, Anne puts the lost time behind her, presses on, despite the occasional nightmares; gets a boyfriend, social network, after-school activities.
[Thirty-nine lunar months]
The tentacles of darkness reappear with a vengeance, worldwide—the sun struggles to make day known. Not in a vacuum, Anne surges with a feeling of oneness with the world.
The fight is apocalyptic, a real Revelations light show. Earth is saved. The darkness is plugged back into the Chaos manifold. Anne stops glowing.
Later, Anne wonders why the shadow wants out of the nighttime.
ANNE DOES NOT RECALL ESCAPING the inconstant mass, a visible darkness connected to original Chaos. Notwithstanding amnesia, she feels a general uneasiness.
Still being Anne proves great resolve; she will never be a little girl again. However, the name is all she remembers.
Later though, she dreams of being hunted by something tearing through the night, unholy. It works quickly breaking through the barricades of her mind for entry, finally getting through. A single tear is all Anne has time for.
Anne inside the murkiness that disdains other agencies, locks hers away, the last vestige against the tightening dark arms.
THIS IS THE THIRD TIME. It blobs into the dimension medusa-like, not as amorphous, but still black as a clouded new moon.
Anne knows this time she will not just think it away like before. The ooze strengthens with each incarnation. She senses determination, consciousness–before there was only unfocused malevolence.
Anne assumes a stance of power, asserts, “I’m not afraid of you,” as the convolving tentacles fire. It snatches the child into its darkness.
Anne, amnesic, steps from the nor’easter blizzard shadows onto her moonlit yard. Home. Anne’s mind, now, has become the stronger of the two.