Their Days Are Numbered is a new year-long project authored by the collective Entropy community. It is a collaborative online novel written by the Entropy community on a weekly basis. A different author will write the next “chapter” each week, to be posted every Tuesday, following the previous post from the previous week, and following a very limited set of guidelines (that each author has one week to write the next piece after the previous week’s installment goes up, that installments should range between 150-1500 words, and that pieces should somehow incorporate a real-life occurrence, current event, news item, or other happening from that week).
Follow the entire “novel” here: Their Days Are Numbered.
The thirty-fifth installment is presented this week by Megan Milks.
We seem to have reached an impasse. We’ll have to turn back. No. We need to keep moving. We’re supposed to go north. That was disinformation. Wait. The impasse is a stretch of time in which one moves around with a sense that the world is at once intensely present and enigmatic, such that the activity of living demands both a wandering absorptive awareness and a hypervigilance that collects material that might help to clarify things, maintain one’s sea legs, and coordinate the standard melodramatic crises with those processes that have not yet found their genre of event. OK OK OK OK OK OK OK OK OK. We need to work together. We won’t get there if we don’t. But we don’t even know where we’re going. We won’t know til we arrive. What if there is no there. What if there’s endless, bleary wandering. We’re trusting the mouse. A dead mouse. A disinforming mouse. OK OK OK OK OK. Let’s keep our grumblings to ourselves. We’re wasting time when we could be moving. We get our best thoughts when we move. Look. Back there by those conjoined trees. Something’s happening with the birds. Wait. Weren’t we here days ago? Are we glitching? Is this a glitch? But there wasn’t this impasse. OK. Sometimes forward means back. Let’s turn back. Maybe we missed something.
(Some language borrowed from Lauren Berlant’s Cruel Optimism.)