– Aren’t you afraid of what is waiting us?
– Not at all. I decided to study physics to understand…
– Don’t tell me your tale or I will be forced to tell you mine! And mine is longer and more sordid than the one of a cool-to-be ex-scholar with an old trench as a best friend! No offense, my friend. – She hugged me as to sweet the words. I throw away my cigarette, to show a little my discomfort. I didn’t hug her back, I didn’t want to cross the wall that she built last time I tried to get closer.
– No point taken. But why should I be afraid? Are you afraid? – I looked at our friends. Paul and Luc were absent minded. Both seemed to be tantalised by the road. We were all sitting on the amphibious rickshaw, that for the moment, was slowly gravity-drifting down the way we were supposed to go. I was controlling the steer without any effort. The thing had pedals also, but I didn’t use them since we broke the inertia. To our right, the buildings were filling up the hill, like outgrown weeds, abandoned as to prove that we were crossing a wasteland. To the left, the slope was letting up observer the terraces of ruined cottages…the more covered by vegetation the more closer to the river, that was also visible deep down the cliff, as a silvery road.
– I’m a philosopher – Pamela says, in a dreamy state. – Philosophy helped me a lot, as much or more than your physics. And it has common point with your speciality, as you know. Lately, like since a year of so (is it important? time is relative, right?) I have this sensation that nothing here belongs to us, that nothing is made of the same matter we are. I feel like if I’m not careful, I’m going to rip down the reality and we, you, me and all the people around, will fall through that hole. Where? I don’t know. Maybe to another version of this Earth? Maybe to our original planet? Now I can’t explain this sensation of irreality, neither its origin. Hell, I don’t know what’s wrong here, provided you know about the … how do you call it? The quirality. And the fact that I can’t explain this deja vu, the fact that I can’t get rid of the feeling, this little…thing, is driving me mad, it’s making me crazy. Do you understand me?