Ewrick's Rabbit Hole

The random quote today led me to a comment in the group story I wrote a little more than a year from now.
I found in it a renewed res­o­nance this morning…

(*) After he sent his reply to Yann, Yurick took a deep breath in appre­ci­ation of all that had been done the last past days.

However tedious, all in all, it had allowed him to stay away from other people’s trauma, and stay focused on his own issues. Now, the feeling of the energy at hand was starting to become lighter. Like a thin ray of light poking through a thick layer of rainy clouds, announcing that the silver lining was more than just a con­so­lation. It was announcing the sun to come.

He took the book of stories that had been unburied (like his pleasure to write) from the bottom of the sofa’s cushions when they’d received hosts last week-end, and looked with amusement at the opening note about the “random quotes”.

A strong sense of an inkling started to dawn at him.
Thanks to the random quotes — or more appro­pri­ately said, to con­ve­nient syn­chronic­ities — “stuff” was never lost or buried in the insides of that ever-growing story, which was eating with gluttony at the edges of its expansion. Things were popping up here and there, reminding of old loose threads, or per­tinent inclu­sions or links to be made.

But there was more. He, for a long time, had thought that imag­i­nation was expanding things to make physical reality look smaller in pro­portion than it was. Like when they’d looked at Dory’s pic­tures, and every­thing looked so big on them. Even the mere thought of nine dogs was huge. But when they’d met her, and Dan, and the dogs, it was all so much smaller. Even seeing Dory manage her dogs made having nine dogs seem man­ageable.
But the reverse was true: physical reality had its way of dwarfing imag­i­nation. Not so much making it smaller, but com­pacting it, making it fit in an unbe­lievably con­densed and small space.

Take that book. Thou­sands of words, bil­lions of prob­a­bil­ities, endless threads and hun­dreds of char­acters, all packaged in a small stack of inked paper. The trick was that when you look at it that way, when you got that small stack of paper in your hands, it all seems so man­ageable; one starts to get accus­tomed to it, then fails to see the newness in it each time it’s opened to tell a story.

Imag­i­nation is the true gauge of the vastness of the uni­verse. It’s so easy to forget…

written by Yuki