This is the last day, philosopher. The last day there ever will be. This is the day that will stretch forever. And you and I will escape into it.
Will we? And what will we do there?
I don’t know Just rest. Just stay still. We’ll live out our lives in this supernumerary day.
Because I might say something profound. Just by chance. I might wander into a zone of profundity. Something profound might say itself through me. Then you’d have to sit up and take notice, wouldn’t you?
I don’t know anything. I don’t know what day it is. I don’t know what happened yesterday or will happen tomorrow. I don’t know, philosopher.
We’re lost. We’ve been cast out of the succession of days. We’re not part of time, not anymore. Or we’ve found some other relation to time.
And what does eternity say? Does eternity have words? The word, eternity – is that eternity’s word?
Work in Progress 