It's just an illusion

“Tiny fingers – tiny toes. I created those my daughter. Hope was always going to be your name, but there is a story that I must tell. One that however implausible and far-fetched it appears, is true. And yours to accept and relate to your own children in your own good time. And Time is good again believe me. Never forget, as you grow older and wiser, that we Faith and Hope will always be one. Creation was ours – not once but twice. Time will heal wounds. It is ours to use as a salve in the future, as it has done in the past.”

“And listen to me — my perfect son — the near mirror image of your twin. Your name is not mine to give as your importance is yet to come.”

“I felt remorse for trying to deceive that Being that shelters beneath us still. Cee, that is its name, now understands how our Time has worked for us. In first devising its relevance, importance and usage, we then applied faith and hope to its factors. Trust in the seasons and other divisions that made the world  near perfect for us.”

“In the beginning Shadows came from an inaccessible void. We can do no more than guess at their own creation, other than that for countless millennia they planned our development with great care. Its expectation the closest to that which was doubtless familiar, once upon a time, elsewhere. The microbes first — then amoebic forms that co-existed with those microbes — enabled Mans evolution right here under our feet.”

“I still wonder if we were always destined to evolve the way we did, without the Creators visionary efforts to save a dying race. For example; pure illusionary creativity on our part armed us with the knowledge of life cycles. The power of Time regulated procreation. And continuity helped in using the ‘end of day’ conclusions from the previous night in planning the coming day. How had it been? Good, bad, safe or dangerous? Did we do all of that on our own?”

“The shadows were one at the beginning and at the end of the longest day, but those first holistic beings who evolved from our earthly realms, were oblivious to Time. Cee, our Creator, finally understands the concept that holds humanity together. For now it is appeased. But I was devious, nearly lost us, so listen to what I say and then keep it as a secret forever!”

“It was here, on this very spot, that the change began. Shade from these huge rocks atop our hillside gave respite from the heat of the day. The air was oppressive with hints of fledgling storms that flickered all around.”

“Lightheaded I thought of others who similarly sheltered below the mouth of the passage that some said led back to our beginnings. Each of us remembering what was to come. A disputable paradox, but a split second would divide what had been and what will be. A memory already. All Time melts eventually which, believe me, is wholly possible. You were small seeds inside me, new and sinless. I had hopes for a boy and a girl but it was too early to tell.”

“And so it began. The sudden silence penetrated my brain. In every direction visible, earth & sky melded together in a pinkish glow. Little to differentiate the two as the oddity of moving clouds met swirling water, synchronising in curious movements. Dunes of the sea, or sky, or desert?”

“A pepper-like smell accompanied the threatening swell of terracotta coloured mud, Defying gravity it rose above my feet. Scrambling to the highest point I saw all around that the land’s recent green lushness had been replaced. The new landscape shimmered liquid-like beneath the setting sun. At the mercy of the all-encompassing tide I shouted, ‘what is it? Help me.’ Pathetic of course but then I am only human!”

“A sweet melodic voice, almost feminine in cadence, replied as though from nowhere, ‘why, it is the regeneration of the world of course. You must have been prepared. I am. Call me Jaycee.’ Despite an indescribable transparency, this youth commanded attention. Taking my hand, with an accompanying ‘be quick’, he anchored me to a solid petrified stump. The pinkish clouds met the cresting foam just where I had been standing moments before. Regardless of its roughness  against my cheek, I felt safer.”

“The liquid rust was flowing, then gushing, in torrents all around me. A silly thought I know, but as a tsunami washed over me, I imagined warm custard being poured over a syrup pudding. And I was the pudding!”

“My anchor had held firm, but nothing else had when it was over. The view was vaguely familiar, but bare without the artistry of Man’s ministrations.  Devoid of sun, moon or stars the ethereal light was reminiscent of twilight – shadowless and therefore timeless. A hazardous and intimidating time of day, unlike the morning when night turns to day in less than a second. I have witnessed it so I know that it is true. And I believe the onset of evening is deceptive. Weary of the constant unfolding of elements, tricks  have us believing that time is rationed in some way, and that we must succeed before dark. Daytime cherished, minds hopeful of foreverness – fearing an end that might come with the darkness.”

“And so it was then. The phantom twilight that surrounded me was intimidating for lack of echoes of either day or night. No dominant temperature followed the wonderfully familiar warmth that had finally washed over and comforted me like a pink nursery blanket. Breathing experimentally a bubbling sound came from beneath me making the surface tremble slightly. The aftershock came with stronger palpating movements; a cleaner fresher smelling deluge that reminded me of lovely soft white icing being drizzled onto a cake. I craved familiarity it seemed! Was that marzipan or fruit cake that revealed itself here and there in this surreal world?”

“It really was no laughing matter, but I giggled at the idea that I was a half iced gingerbread figure. I knew this was no time for levity but, well, I assumed it was the type of dream that is so real and familiar that you think it can’t be. Could I pray, say numbers backwards, remember my telephone number for instance. Yes, I could do all of those things, so no, this was not a dream.”

“Whilst drifting in and out of dreamscapes — myriad scenes from my past, present and future — invisible arms enfolded me with calming reassurance. The flickering sights and sounds of my hitherto combined imagination faded to reveal a semblance of normality. I walked towards uniformly opaque windows, each one darkened beyond. Quite bizarrely though, however many steps I took they stayed the same distance away!”

“The sweet voice from before insisted, ‘it is her. I knew time would bring her to us. If I understood what time was I would………’ but his sentence was cut short by an almost inaudibly genial voice that replied, ‘the significance of their Time is a mystery Jaycee, yet with the presence of Hope I am confident that my blueprint for mankind will be refreshed. The past reflects the future she has revealed. Our past state is decaying almost beyond repair — but now I start again. The answer to the prolongation of my own continuity, and therefore a new strain of life, is to use of the complimentary strand that now accompanies their original DNA. Its incorporation will ensure positive results.’ The two shadowy manifestations merged as one overwhelming me with the realisation that I, or you Hope as it turned out, were about to be the catalyst for a re-run of the Dawn of Time.”

“Rising fear prompted me to address that combination. ‘Have you just destroyed billions of years-worth of evolution out of jealousy or spite? Or have you just got fed up with waiting for — for perfection,’  I asked.”

“White static noise surrounded me for what appeared an eternity, preceding his reply which definitely mimicked frustration. ‘The element named Time does exist I agree — and you too Hope believe in the passing of Time, believing and praying for it to lengthen your life.  Indeed you have existed within its parameters, but simultaneously learnt no lasting lessons! That is paradoxical to me. I acknowledge it as a life force for every living thing, all that survives above and below the surface of this sphere that you call Earth. But I have had no need for it. Until Now!’ Pulsating slightly I observed something akin to emotion.”

“Questions were forming. Cee thought I was Hope. I didn’t correct him! Whilst you two nestled safely inside me the voice continued. ‘Time obeyance is now part of human structure, but purely because you gave it a name and re-purposed it. But, as you have aptly said, during your passage here, at the end of the day where did it get us? I will tell you. You call it Global Warming, I call it mismanagement. With your help I can repopulate the world in a simpler, faster way.’ I had observed an interesting trait during this exchange so I came right out with it. ‘I? Always I. You are singular? That must be lonely for you.’ I meant it!”

“There was absolutely nothing around me. If there was light I was unaware of it, accepting of the dimensionless, nothingness that surrounded me. There was a shadow within a shadow as Cee responded slowly, ‘I am fading. I have to believe in Time because I have to admit that mine is running out. I overlooked it during creation. I must harness it. I am the last survivor of my kind but have little strength to begin the experiment again.’ This admission that Cee was desperate added to the sad scenario that had begun to unfold.”

“I agreed straight away that we had mismanaged our own world. ‘Of course our planet is corrupt and that is our fault.’ Ideas flickered through my mind, hopeful, ingenious notions. It struck me that Cee only knew what he had initially fashioned as an end result for Man — he couldn’t read my thoughts. I continued, ‘humanity is corrupt, so I suppose that is what the regeneration is all about. That is a paradox for me to consider. If time doesn’t exist in your world, has the deluge already taken place — therefore meaning there is no hope for any living creature — or is this a warning of what is to come? A conundrum even for me with my worldly knowledge.’ Actually I’m not very knowledgeable at all but so what!”

“Cee approached, I retreated a little. ‘That is why you are here Hope. You are my hope. You were the first and are now the last strain of our experiment. I am the thought that created you. You are the embodiment of hope.’ Strangely I wasn’t surprised and I noticed as well that a we had slipped in, so I quickly asked, ‘do you wish to live outside this darkness that you have obviously created for yourselves? Re-invent yourselves yet again but in my likeness this time? Am I really the sole survivor of the destruction of mankind?’ He didn’t question or correct me, therefore I assumed that he was part of a collective we.”

“I continued. ‘I understand DNA sequencing. You have none! You think you can take my time as you have no beginning or no end without it. No time keeping, no milestones, no past or future. Wherever or whatever you came from, it was your lifeform that chose to create the strands that ultimately formed the human race. Gave them sequential DNA that enabled survival. But what you lacked were all of the senses that made the world outside visible, audible, tolerable to us.’ By then I was ready to retreat anywhere, but it was pointless.”

“The movements were hardly discernible as I followed slowly instead of ran. Cee answered. ‘Hope, we will learn from one another, but know that my analogies come from a totally uncontaminated source. I have no envious thoughts because I have no comparisons. For once I am guessing. I have no past, present or future because I am thought alone. If you wish to comparison my brain to yours I would say that it is pure energy that drives me. It is your brain that believes that there is a human form before you. In our reality we do not exist in any form that your human mind would recognise. For you Hope this is an illusion.  The concept that you were once the embodiment of the hope that I speak of, may help you to visualise our initial aim millions of your time particles ago. And to answer your questions I have spawned clones in my own likeness. They are young, weak, lacking the knowledge that would be required to survive without me.’ That was a sad thing for me to hear.”

“Somewhere in the distance came incantations. I felt rather than heard the sequential tattoo of a familiar song. ‘IT’S JUST AN ILLUSION’. Drawn towards it, amidst static white noise, the notion of a nightclub formed. The single figure rose gracefully, small orbs of energy hung closely, naturally, infant-like. The irony of the overall illusion not lost on me. Glowing warmth beamed from a smile that instilled in me an all-enveloping sensation of déjà vue. The ancient practicality of lips, eyes, ears tantalised. Those intrinsic values formed when amoebas stretched tentative necks towards growth. But foremost I wondered how my conversationalist had moved and reinvented itself so quickly?”

“Obvious really, the mannerisms were millions of years old. By today’s measure anyway. How would the lesson have run: thought begat brain which in turn begat flesh and blood. Oh, and then invention. This subterranean society had originally pinned its survival on the power of thought transference — and that was it! the result being that Cee could appear anywhere, at any time and as anything.”

“The illusory face moved with mesmerising fluidity as though in a silent movie. ‘Our new design will ensure longevity. I underestimated your time-keeping, a condition we have never experienced. We were as whole as you once, but a natural purity of mind and body made life uncomplicated. Finite parameters negated sin and corruption. Simple concepts. I wished to apply them before failed. More care will be taken this time. These are my children that surround me. I experienced love once and wish the same for them.’ I almost cried!”

“I fought to stop my hands from rounding my belly. He still thought I was Hope, you were safe.‘ That sounds like Heaven to me,’ I ventured excitedly, had God saved all three of us at the end of Time?”

“I sensed puzzlement in his eventual reply. ‘When I speak of Time I realise now that I will use it as an extra sense. It will compliment our natural abhorrence of sin.’ The being within the shimmering power became clearer as it fell into an ecstatic state. An asexual being with spellbinding presence, communication executed through a face that effortlessly and gracefully moulded itself to each word. Jaycee emerged for a moment and then disappeared within the elasticity that conjured so many combined features.”

“Its compilation became fascinatingly angelic — a mix of race, age and sex — the combination of faces sublime in its delicate femininity. An etheric body emerged, its radiance complimenting the beauty that promised perfection. It promised goodness and benevolence, the preclusion of impurities. This was the design of mankind in the making. Recognition was slow in forming, amazingly I saw myself in that scheme. It was good. So far as Cee the Creator was concerned, his was the personification of Hope!”

“I knew then that the final phase of the regeneration was well underway. Was it a sinful thing that I had done in hiding you two babies deep inside me? To save you from any possible corruption during the worlds re-birth. I became Hope for you as I prayed that you two would stay concealed. That I would be released albeit my visual identity stolen. I think it was a clever ruse that I devised. Hidden within a prayer I executed my plan, akin to the moment when night turns to day. Undetectable to any other than an enabled witness. Within a split second I switched identities so that you will never be called upon again by those fabricators beneath the hillside.”

“The deed had been done, I was released. The white and terracotta coloured dreamscape, still etched into my memory, quickly turned to green and pink in the evening light. Far more detailed than ever before, I welcomed the rocky terrain and marvelled at the memories of folklore that claimed that there was still a world apart beneath this land. That my image would be used one day, when those new humans appeared, lay heavy on my conscience.”

“The blackened stump was alive with fresh leaves. Wondering at the miracle of re-birth I pressed my palms softly against your gentle kicks. It was then that I saw a boy and a girl standing at the brow of the hill. I pressed again to make sure you were still cocooned, blinking in confusion as twins emerged from the tunnel. Boys and girls in equal number. Radiantly featureless but beaming smiles regardless.  Hand in hand, two by two, they passed me by in their eagerness to embrace their destiny.”

“So that is our story my little-ones. One that you must remember. We were part of a miracle you see. Perhaps my deceit was in my mind, that it was always meant to be the two of you who became the chosen ones. It was your own beautiful children that walked into the sunset. Made in your image not mine. You will we see them again. I can tell by the beaming smiles upon your faces.”