Minds can’t see what they can’t handle.” Hugo nodded, as he observed his own watch.
“So,” Nora said, “whatever exists between universes is most likely not a library, but that is the easiest way for me to understand it.
That would be my hypothesis. I see a simplified version of the truth. The librarian is just a kind of mental metaphor. The whole thing is.”
“Isn’t it fascinating?” said Hugo. Nora sighed. “In the last life I spoke to my dead dad.”
Hugo opened a jar of coffee and scooped out granules into two mugs.
“And I didn’t drink coffee. I drank peppermint tea.” “That sounds terrible.” “It was bearable.”
“Another thing that is strange,” Hugo said. “At any point in this conversation you or I could disappear.”
“Have you seen that happen?” Nora took the mug Hugo handed her.
“Yeah. A few times. It’s freaky. But no one else would notice.
They become a bit vague with their memory for the last day, but you would be surprised.
If you went back to the library right now, and I was still standing here talking to you in the kitchen,
you would say something like ‘My mind’s just gone blank—what were we talking about?’,
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