At the Brink of Eternity

Coming home from work on the subway, as usual reading my book, and today’s train problem was “a fire at High Street”—so about a half-hour later than usual, if there is a usual. So today, the odd and unusual thing was that I noticed a woman reading an incredibly thick novel—at least I assumed it was a novel—I couldn’t see the title. And what caught my attention was that she was a couple pages from the end. She didn’t seem to be a speed reader either, so I started looking up at her every so often to see how close to the end she was. I wanted to see her finish it! What would happen when she finished the book? Would a bell go off somewhere in the world? Would her head light up like a plastic star on the top of a Christmas tree? Would time unfold like the tablecloth on the plane of existence and then fold us back in, never to be seen again?


As it turned out, she was still not done with the book—though I swear she was on the LAST PAGE—when we came to my stop. But to my surprise and delight, she got off at my stop—and kept reading as she walked! So I followed her, of course. Down the platform, still reading, through the turnstile, reading, up the stairs to the street—still reading! When she emerged from the depths, onto the street, she was still reading, and I was still right behind her. When we came to the first corner, however, she headed east, while my direction was north. Now I had to make a decision, and I chose to stop following her. That was where I drew the line, I decided. Maybe I missed something... maybe I lost something... maybe I escaped something—I’ll never know.