94.5 \ 286

Dragon Food rode a wave of sound on its sudden slide toward the central maelstrom. The sound began to transform a little, a response to the nearness of its other part. The rider transformed with it, taking on the music’s new morphing differentials. Sliding between the waveforms, he became the scintillation in the visualizations, whatever that really meant in the equation of form meeting form. The balancing waveforms met in the fractally opposing space between the two Dragons, if not the technical spatial dimension as usually known. Dragon Food was somewhere inside the concept that was being enacted, like a bole in the wood. He was looking for the eye, the eye, he had to catch the eye of the Dragon in another dimension. He had to be seen.

He rode the music to its howling center, and jumped off into the eye of the storm, where he formed an apparition of his best contextual self, pure expression of all constituting this momentary environment. It was balance, it was introduction, it was newness and selfhood, comprehension and execution, boldness of knowledge; the right ingredients in the right amounts. His self existed, altered and moreso, in a space part of other spaces, connecting to other versions of selves in other dimensions, such as time. Both Dragons became aware of him.

“I am Akralnar. You are Acamar. We have sameness.” With this declarative thought expression of identity, Akralnar’s face emerged in more detail. Without much ado, ‘e ingested the morsel of Dragon Food in the music that belonged as much to er dimension as it did to er twin’s. There was a form of gulp, as full realization developed momentarily, of the delicious and unexpected nature of this happening. Acamar also blinked, fractally. “It was good to be us, my sameness. Now me to mine, and you to yours.” The great sound wound toward its completion.

“Agreed. We really are always us, whatever and wherever we are. I am glad to know us better. Until you.” Everything separated as the music disappeared.

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