Millie, the librarian, has been listening to an employee’s story about waiting to catch a train to Sheridarp, and has given him a book on the unknowable. It’s late on a Saturday night, early on the day following, and the characters have inexplicably diverged from their raisons d’être, or would have if they existed. Part 1 is here.
After several repetitions, I observed that
every page was blank, apart from butterflies
and their suggestions.
In the lofty realm of publishing,
timeliness is key.
“The Unknowable” is as yet unwritten,
but the first edition’s out in print
and the second’s coming out next week.
The over-rated rational, I thought,
and Millie shared an inconvenient fiction.
Was the dream her own or someone else’s?
I didn’t know, but a reply was
unavoidable, and I chose trains.
Countable trains passed by,
until an engine with a single flatcar
pulled into the station.
On the flatcar, another station stood,
and with an air of carefree nonchalance,
I leapt aboard: my journey had finally begun.
Time streamed past, both near and far,
and the station stopped
at motionless carriages
of every shape and size,
some with pot plants in the windows.
But I had no ticket, and did not disembark.
Might these stationary carriages…
be simple buildings?
Mind stations (part above) from VEE, the visual evolution engine, and TIM, the illustrated mind. The image is evolved from 12 minutes of my EEG, and the detail above shows the transition from sitting quietly (left) to writing bad poetry (right).