Stay in my sight, and out of my way

''This is a nocore plightUser:Serprex 14:00, May 18, 2011 (UTC)


 * Feed me my creator

The note was left in the mail


 * Don't say go

She didn't feel like reading them all. In parts, they'd be nothing more than a misdirection. If she didn't care enough to read enough of the parts to be misdirected, she certainly wasn't going to care enough to read the whole and be directed towards some new form of misdirection

The compasses had stopped working years ago. People always thought the poles might shift; the poles had yet to stop shifting. Spurious environmental activity and radio noise made long distance communication more difficult than it'd been in the golden age of chatter

For all the doomsday predictions people had, nothing else really went wrong. Overall, people were able to shutup and think again for once

So she stopped listening to everybody's noise, turned on an old radio and listened to the world's newest drab sad noise, and tried to figure out if it was quiet enough to hear one's self's thought yet. Minds are rather hospitable, letting old intrusions echo in the skull for what can only be hoped is not eternity. As of yet, she was still holding out that the echoing thoughts had yet to kill their hostess

Random notes only served as noise. She'd let it start, and had grown bored enough to stop reading diligently, but not bored enough to bring it to an end. Did it drown out the past intrusions? Too many variables to settle in a lifetime

The most recent batch was from Mossoró. It was always changing. Sometimes there'd be a pattern, but it'd never last too long. Overall, the locations randomly scattered over the world, irrespective of distance. Someone had figured out how to keep travelling. Sometimes the notes would include pictures. Sometimes from the location being mailed from, but many other times from some previous location. Some appeared to be taken by the sender, others appeared to be stolen from some unknown family album, while still others might have been stolen from a gift card store

If they were stolen, it was not for monetary reasons that the deed was done. The notes had included bank notes from time to time

What wasn't random was their destination. It seemed her address was the pivot for this peculiar chaos

An agenda had been included. That was interesting enough to flip through. Locations were given with time. Each column was paired with a column specifying margins of error. Someone had figured out how to determine how little they could determine. The last entry was her own address, dated for noon sharp tomorrow. She sighed obligatorily