A Tale for Tomorrow

In each of them a question was forming, which was wordless and sufficient to itself, but fully alive and concrete – this experience, which they had entrusted one another with, recognizing each of the others as a member of the same free family, this very experience, could it now occur simultaneously in all of them at once – and was it even desirable, since its truth could never be obtained by any personal will or any egocentric urge?

Could there occur a synchronicity of which they would each be aware?

And as they busied themselves here and there in the vast abode for the preparation of this simple festive repast, their rhythms seemed to extend within, densifying and centring, like a coalescence in each body; a communication seemed to become alive between all of their gestures and movements, as if their very milieu was more inhabited by a single harmony. Was it another kind of gravity, a gravity which, instead of a traction, a weight or a tie and a bond, was experienced as a happy density uniting all the elements: a flame of frozen liquid, as if another substance entirely homogeneous, which seemed to behave in each of them like a magnet, an altar, a threshold or a hand outstretched by another, more conscious inhabitant? And so, in flashes, were their eyes saying, while they all moved to order and arrange the taking of their last meals in these premises.

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