How tripped out is it that it can be a day like any other when suddenly, out of the blue, tragedy strikes and nothing is ever the same again? It sends you reeling, grasping at the details of an ordinary life... I know what it’s like to be finally and firmly on the outside of everything.
Will the act of me walking through the tunnel bring him out? Will he appear in the guise of my own face’s reflection in the sheen of water that covers the walls inside? ... Will he be there, in the syncing up of the simulacrum and my awareness of it as such?
It was such a Babies thing to do–watching movies in the forest in the winter. WTF. Could they see me up here? Would they be able to help? But then I reminded myself I was here to help them. Save them even.