Almost twenty-three hundred hours. A long day filled with necessity. You just finished the conclusion of scene nine. Fill it in here and we are done for now. – Amorella.
“We are undead not unborn,” replied Kassandra.
“You read my thought?”
“I heard your voice from inside my mind. I heard you say, ‘Mother, we are unborn.’”
“What before?”
“Nothing, those are the only words.”
“I don’t think I thought those words exactly.”
“I only know what I heard.” Kassandra paused and looked directly into and through his eyes. She said, “We cannot afford madness here.”
He turned his head, stared into the sky and mumbled, “Mother is reason alone.”
She whispered, “We exist in reason, Thales.”
“Then, what is the meaning, the purpose?”
“To find ourselves. Thales, there is no other meaning.”
He found himself in a smile. “You believe this?”
“What else?” deftly left her lips and reflected his own. Her left hand touched his right and the fingers clasped methodically as if it were their primary nature.
Above, outside the west wall of her inner home, the Supervisor in mind drifted, a thinly ballooned wall of sorts, separating is from shall be. Distance is important for such things, whether the minds are beyond dead or living. A wall is a gift within itself. Humans when united by mind or body discount reality with something else entirely, something built in for their own protection, a strong scent of camouflage.
Drawing unknowingly on this selective bead of disguise, Thales suddenly realized, ‘I love this woman better than all I now know of nature.’ At that very moment the close and timely presence of the Supervisor's observation evaporated from Thales’s what is.
**
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