11
"MEMORY DUET"
And yet…
Perhaps the illusion was imperfect, perhaps there is something in consciousness that forbids such trickery, perhaps they stared too long at each other… For whatever reason, they could not maintain their new selves.
The memories that they had made began to collapse into each other and become surreal. Contradictions spiralled and became wars of attrition.They clawed at each other. Their presence like sand between their fingers. "Which of us is it?", they demanded "Which of us did this?".
Of course it was neither of them, and when the realisation came it was a downpour washing them back into one, a spilled glass on a watercolour.
They were The Network again, and The Network was made of the connections between people; and in the void - The Network howled.
Perhaps the illusion was imperfect, perhaps there is something in consciousness that forbids such trickery, perhaps they stared too long at each other… For whatever reason, they could not maintain their new selves.
The memories that they had made began to collapse into each other and become surreal. Contradictions spiralled and became wars of attrition.They clawed at each other. Their presence like sand between their fingers. "Which of us is it?", they demanded "Which of us did this?".
Of course it was neither of them, and when the realisation came it was a downpour washing them back into one, a spilled glass on a watercolour.
They were The Network again, and The Network was made of the connections between people; and in the void - The Network howled.
