Virgo 21. A geologist studying bands of rock in a cliff.
Surfaces continue to pile up as the sea watches. These are not histories with a remembered beginning, but eras, falling randomly out of a vast, nebulous womb. The geologist keeps counting layers, but the bands grow narrower and multiply, the numbers mumbling something. The sea is behind him, and he imagines it waits for him to finish. But the sea never waits – it is only a place where thirsty water can gather to drink as much rest as it needs.