I know that this will
be hard for you to understand at first. I beg you to be patient and
not to judge me too harshly. You, of all people, know how hard these
past few years have been for me. Since losing Sophie, my life has
been shrouded in darkness as thick as oil, each day filled with raw
despair. So desperate was I in those early weeks and months that I
couldn’t see any way out of that darkness and despair, far less
feel the loss of all those whose loved-ones were wiped out by that
awful epidemic. The helplessness of having to watch their terrible
suffering was made so much worse because I, a physician, was
incapable of doing anything at all. I cannot say that I have or ever
will recover from that experience and yet I must continue to live
somehow, with the hole that was once filled with the light that was
Sophie.
Darling.
I know this will come as an enormous shock to you, and please my
darling, do try to bear with me while I try to explain why I am
taking a decision which, I hope passionately, will change our lives.
Je t'imagine dans ton jardin
aux arbres de métal inoxydable. Sais-tu que je n'arrive même plus à
me souvenir des arbres... en bois, si j'ose dire... qui existaient
autrefois ? C'est tellement loin. De nombreux souvenirs sont
enfermés dans mon inconscient et ressurgissent inopinément comme
les braises d'un feu que l'on croyait éteint.
An
Open Letter to the People of Earth from the Commune of Citadel
At
long last, it has been done. We have pushed and stretched and
shredded our planet to ruin. And unlike in the past, we have no one
to blame but ourselves. We did this. We built and built without
regard, then sat back and idly watched as everyone—EVERYONE—with
even some semblance of sense prophesized, warned us, pleaded with us
to stop. Now the day they spoke of is here. We must abandon our
Mother Earth, our beautiful Gaia.
So, this message will be read, I
reckon. By someone human? Probably.
I'm not sure I see what you want us to tell
you, in order to convince you of our... Anyway. Let's say something
about me, since that is the whole point.
I
don’t know if you’ll get this. There’s been word that shipments
to North America are still being made with Solisim. M has said he’ll
do what he can to get this letter sent. Blessed is our G-D. I’m
writing to you because it’s likely to be the last time I can.
Vous
allez sans doute vous moquer du conte que va vous narrer le vieil
homme que je suis, mais je puis vous assurer que ce n'est pas de la
pure fiction.
J'avais
toujours eu le pressentiment que vers la fin de ma vie je
participerais à une grande aventure dans l'univers. Aussi j'espère
de tout coeur que, parmi les très nombreux candidats, je serai l'un
des heureux choisis.
If you had to choose,
between a rattle and a ball, which would it be? Would it be an
arbitrary choice? Arbitrary in itself maybe, but you will always have
a preference I'm sure. If you choose the rattle, to divert your baby
from its bed, or the ball to play with in the garden--- is it the
moment that decides? I have decided, I believe, to take the ball.
It's quiet and versatile and it bounces. I have always loved a good
bounce. Feeling the reverberation of the plastic against the
pavement, against the floor.