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“Consciousness limiting is the digit one. The universe is the digit zero. That’s the binary nature of our existence. When the last new song is composed and the final wavelength transmitted, we will have filled the electro-magnetic spectrum, caught up to creation.” He didn’t blink. His eyes widened and his face paled. “Our binary existence will have no alternative but to return to true zero. Nature will require that the universe collapse. The implosion will cause another Big Bang and start all over again.” Ross chuckled dryly. “We will have gotten too close to deity.” I’d never heard anyone’s paranoia expressed on such a cosmic scale. I’ve listened to my share of patients claiming to be Jesus. Misplaced religiosity isn’t the same. Ross’ speech, although difficult for me to follow, showed me deeper delusions than before. He had no history of violence toward self or others; for the first time, I wondered if he might harm himself. I tried not to let him see my concern. “Ross, what are your plans?” He scoffed, “I’m not suicidal, Dr. Baron. I’m letting you know you’d better get your affairs in order—internally.” Ross wouldn’t listen to my attempts to delineate where his logic was faulty. My inferior intellect, a contributing factor, prevented me from countering him effectively. I tried to end our session on an optimistic note. “Ross, your theory is fascinating. Let’s resume this next week. I’ll see you then.” From the doorway, he said, “I hope so.” As I said earlier, when I opened my front door to get the newspaper, the colors of autumn were gone, replaced by visuals more like an old-fashioned television picture from before color transmissions. I shut the door and realized my home was also in black and white. Looking into my living room, I saw black fading - 94 -

The Fine Line Issue 3  

The Fine Line presents its third compilation of art, fiction and poetry by contributors Francis Raven, Michael Young, Dorothee Lang, Raj Sha...