Slave

A word for a thought, a language for a mind. No less than a complete corpus of literature is needed to shape a pseudoform of one person’s inner story, the network of fact and fiction, of neat narratives with the corners tucked in and the wrinkles folded away. No more can a pantheon or a One True God show the expanse of experience, the multitude of man. The last person to have an identity written in the stars, at least the stars as we know them, is likely already born. Is he aware that he is the last of a kind, the final survivor of a great lineage?