The traveler slept and dreamed, and waking knew not if he was a Morlock who had dreamed of being an Eloi, or if he was an Eloi dreaming of being a Morlock. Then he realized he must be an Eloi, because a Morlock wouldn’t care, he’d just get on with eating Eloi. Or wait; he might be an Eloi and not know it.
He thought to himself, Do the Eloi not know they’re Eloi, or do they just not care? But I care, so I’m a Morlock. I mean an Eloi. Wait; I’m outside, and the sun’s up, so I must be an Eloi. Maybe one of these guys will know. Okay, Eloi always tell the truth and Morlocks always lie… “Hey buddy, if I asked this guy here if he was…”
Saturday, February 27, 2010
A selection from a short-short story by Marcel of Monday Evening: