Reflections of a Rock

by Joseph Levy

The dynamic monoliths are separated by a hideous void, a
horrific gulf, the empty nothingness that is everything else.
Conceived from naught save interaction, nourished by introspection,
they grow, the mature. Formations and outcroppings appear
unexpectedly. At least with unexpected rapidity. "That was
destined to happen," One reflects, "I know myself; already I can
see the seeds of this property and that particular growth. They
are imperfect compared with those in Other; this may be for wont of
certain trace minerals." The rocks are not completely isolated in
meaningless space, for the abyss is bridged by beams of empathy
whose intensity is proportional to the degree of similarity and
sentience of the two that are connected. "The parallelism of being
between Other and myself would be unduly enigmatic to those who
have failed to develop such proximity of consciousness," One
continues, "if it would not be presumptuous of me to assume that
such exists. Other's recent developments, which I have foreseen,
provide quite a startling contrast to what I am and to what Other
was. And though they are slightly disturbing (inasmuch as they are
dangerous), they are in truth neither beneficial nor detrimental;
simply different."

"Is a stone truly the sum of its experiences?" One ponders.
"Perhaps, if one includes its future experiences. Those, though,
are merely the results of that which shapes the stone itself, its
unique, innate algorithm of growth. And that is much more than
just experience. To support the hypothesis would constitute

There is something more the boulder searches for, but its
nature eludes understanding, hovering just on the verge of
perception, without crossing that line. All introspection
converges on the final veil, where the quintessence of being lies,
without actually reaching it. The monolith is relentlessly driven
in pursuit of unattainable knowledge. This story ended in the
beginning, and will last forever.

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