We face these parallel worlds
everyday, constructed by words, misconstrued, and reconstructed again. The
beginnings of a confluence in the never ending construction, I’ve been there, I’ve
seen it all before. It is the words that make up a language of which we can
utter bits and pieces of to each other, but communication frays at edges too,
like a ship’s sail left out too long to dry and whiter. Words do not create
mere fictions, they create the framework of worlds beyond the reach of my
finger. If not for the words, there might not be anything to bind us together.
