A Letter to a Friend Tossed in The Wind.?.
Wherever your path may lead you, know the world still needs you.
I write this not just to make the public aware but in hopes that some echo of the sentiments portrayed here locate my missing friend, Professor of Philosophy Mercreu L’aInk.
Whom, after a surprisingly low turnout to his annual "Q&Q" on philosophy, my dear friend, colleague, and apparently now former possessor, stitched in the same vein; Professor L’aInk was spotted darting across Campus while colorful streams of Screams spewed from his gaping maw. Only a swarm of words forged in the fires of his freshly illiterate mind escaped his deafening cries. The ordeal’s shadow of mystery was at least partly pierced on inspection of his office. When cased tip-to-tail, it was found riddled with cryptic messages sprawled in every nook of every cranny of his office (reprinted below). It appeared he was making his way to the forest of suspicious-looking trees, just north of Draper.
I hope his words, these clues, have hidden within them some memory of the man I knew and perhaps a bit of a breadcrumb left to lead us to him:
“Can you see them, the eyes that spell out the constellations blinking? Of course, you can't. The Whispers that creep up backwards from the hole in the sink. It is that whisper, that echo in your ear telling you that a corner lies and waits for you 'round every corner of every wall. The wall cracks and the yolk spill out, as a twisted chicken omelet hatches on the upside of the floor you stare under.“
“As the insatiable pecking tends towards crescendo, the crow's cawing deep inside your skull tears a hole in the universe. Where do wild geese go to nest? Where wind of Elsewhere has left, leaving tails and sails falling flaccid.”
“You don't understand, do you? The truth is made up of Lies. You can't see them. They've faded. What have I heard, you ask: the suspension strings of disbelief have been disproven. And so off I will go to find the root of this problem and when then eats now, when I replant the strings, I’ll have my answer and quench the questions, no loose ends stings tied up at life’s long last."
The Surreal times will release updates as the story unfolds.
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