‘I cannot read braille,’ I said. The flustered stars flickered in exasperation. ‘And I don’t know morse.’
But perhaps I would never need too. Enlighted by the waxing moon, swollen and almost full to the brim at this time of the month, truths formed in the nacre of my mind:
‘Darkness is the natural state of the universe,’ it called. ‘In the state of nature, solitude is rife and darkness a necessity, all is hidden but so are we. We find comfort in the dark because we know that we cannot be seen. We live, momentarily, suspended from all time and space: free – but only a shadow.’
‘And if I choose to live?’
‘The life of man is a contract. The light is a salvation. The light is a chain. Although you may no longer be a shadow, the one you cast is far deeper. You are no longer a silver fish that swims unperceived in the mercury stream. You are no longer the gull between the waves.’
‘The darker the shadow, the brighter the light.’
‘The brighter the light, the darker the shadow.’
‘I may have been the shadow, but I choose the light.’
‘So be it, my son. May the light bless you and the shadows keep you. The road is treacherous, and the contract is binding. Do not lose your way. The road is long and the goal is further. Do not lose your way.’