Taurus 4. A linguist invents a perfect language.
To perfectly communicate — is it possible? The linguist wonders. She decides that if words could only be more specific, then communication could attain a perfect clarity. And so she’s making up words, names for clouds she’s just seen, dictionaries of various names for colors — depending on the time of day, season and weather conditions in which they are viewed, and thousands of words for emotions which all contain an elaborate sequencing of vowells, but no consonants, as well as words invented solely for the purpose of more specifically defining other words.
Eventually she feels she has too many words, and decides to give them away as presents.
People begin receiving anonymous gifts of cornucopias spilling forth endless words, and word pictures big as gargantuan trees bursting with leaves covered with poems that wither, and falling, rot into fertile silences.
Phiarus says the reverberations of songs never die but linger in the air eternally, and even though they become fainter and fainter they also move outward into space. And even though our scientists tell us that sound may not be propagated through a vacuum they are yet to learn this secret: that as songs leave the atmosphere of earth they transmute into a light invisible to the eyes but known by the ears that can in fact move through space, until, eventually even the stars hear them, ingest them, and turning them into light reflect them back.
This is why many of the oldest songs have such a profound effect on the psyche, for when they are sung again the echoes of their former playing are awakened, which carry back into the present the voices of those who in all times sang them.