The fold was his oracle. A mysterious mind

The fold was his oracle. A mysterious mind that he could put ideas into and watch the multi-headed beast breath life into a few sentences. If you read the entire story in a certain

conventional linear order, then of course it might provide a certain frisson or bit of guff. But if words were considered as tiles in a mental mosaic, a vestibule of glimmering gr

imaces, caught in the mirror's last glance, then meaning was, essentially, meaningless... Lydia listened with an impassive face. She liked Ron's hair, but his philosophy

was inane. Lydia's phenomenological approach to life frightened men off. That is, until she met Jeremy. He could point to the sky and say "Blue" and she'd understand that he meant

light from the sky is a result of the scattering of sunlight, which results in a blue color perceived by the human eye. Jeremy understood Rayleigh scattering, named after the Briti

sh spelling of "Relay." Jeremy go on about optical science at parties, lunches, and long train rides. Shunned, he worked long hours developing an ointment of transparency.

Optical science he discovered is not something to be discussed at parties because any science for that matter becomes transparent at a party; science is inverse to the optics

of pick-up dynamics. Dr. Krylon had not tested his theories in public before. Donning the googly eyeglasses, he strutted towards the sexiest

monkey in the troupe and offered it a banana. Dr Krylon's goggly eyes fell out of his glasses when the monkey started chewing his ear. He'd pulled... scientifically! Human trials w