DescriptorA Story by Lilly Negoi
There is a hidden word, from forgotten times, that is able to unlock the gates of language - of ANY language.
The word is of a particular consistence, indefinable in the known terms. It can morph into any meaning at all and in the same time it contains all the meanings folded in its shape. It can mould on the will of its utterer as well as it can mould the utterer on its will - for the word has a will of its own. The word is alive.
The word is scribed on a scroll. The scroll is of ordinary origin, so that it highlights the unordinary essence of the word. The scroll is not cut evenly but has frayed margins, because it itself is just a patch on the word’s substance, ordained to seal in its bidimensional space the multidimensional universe of the word.
The scroll is buried under the roots of an old tree, which never did and never will bear blooms and fruits, only leaves. The tree has become a limb of the word on the scroll and it draws its sap directly from that one, therefore understanding both solitude and presence.
The tree is silent. Silence is a language. Silence does not exclude the word, but underlines its importance as a source. The word precedes the silence, as it precedes all languages. As it precedes all.
The word is not meant to be found, but only have its existence acknowledged. Should the word ever be found, people would, at best, treat it as a language pick-lock, failing to understand their role as pieces of the word’s inner puzzle.
Therefore, the word simply is, hiding within its core the forbidden keys of Babel.
© 2012 Lilly Negoi
Shelved in 1 LibraryAdded on April 20, 2012
Last Updated on April 20, 2012
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