The presence in the universe of any unconsummated fall would be as unendurable as the appearance on a page of a single parenthesis mark—
Thus, every interrupted fall must eventually achieve resolution—
if not through the faller in question, then through someone or something else, though not necessarily in linear (sequential) time.
If while careening over a cliff’s side, you should happen to grasp hold of a juniper branch, understand that somewhere between heaven & earth, a parachute must fail to open. And should you manage to jolt yourself awake just as you begin to tumble out of bed or into love, somebody’s hammock will be flipping over even as you steady yourself; someone will be plotting the least distance between her lips & the back of his neck.
This principle applies to all existing entities, including fluids such as milk, varnish, & beer, & abstractions such as graph lines & the value of the euro.
Because it is less aesthetically satisfying to initiate a gesture than to bring one to denouement, the individual or entity that completes a fall remains in a position of permanent obligation to the one that initiates it, the rate of interest rising in accordance with the severity or, dare I say, the gravity, of the drop.
What constitutes reality? Not superstrings or quantum bubbles, but only this mutual & irreversible floating debt.
Claire Bateman | Mudlark No. 44 (2011) Contents | The Waterbird