By Richard Mather
What is amazing is not that my corpse was contracted and compressed into the earth’s dark matter (while my grave went unmarked and unremarked for some fifty years) but that my soul, of magnitude so tiny it was nothing more than a vibrating point, escaped its prison and went its own way.
No longer confined, the vibrating point was free to enter into compounds with unseen bodies of atomic size and together they let so much light pass through that they were barely visible in the day, before taking on a specular quality, undulating in shape until we (for they had formed into we) was a sphere of four cubic millimeters which, despite our size, reflected (admittedly, in demagnified form) the multiplicity of things around it.
Fleeing the earth, I flew ecstatically (for we had become I) beyond the four moons of Galileo, past the sun, and I am traveling now, inclining towards infinity, so that on time’s last day I will reside at peace among my kind, in a kingdom of mirrors (a catoptric paradise, I am assured), where each reflection becomes an expression of every other.
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