It's like talking to a wall. This isn't an unusual experience, so Foster can't pretend he's surprised, or even disappointed. Most of the time, he has the distinct feeling that he's speaking an entirely different language from other people, a language that shares the same sounds and even grammar, but somewhere between his mouth and their ears, the meaning gets lost. Sometimes he senses that it's the other person's problem, not his. Sometimes, it feels like there's a defect in him, an essential flaw that's incapable of function in the world of people. You are not responding correctly to the situation.

Most of the time he knows both are true.

Anyway, the feeling now isn't disappointment. It's disillusionment. He had, for some reason, hoped that this man, this other person with whom he had one thing in common, would not be...

Mmmmm.

Ha ha. That was stupid of him.

"The life in this world... in all worlds, is by nature in decay. You said it yourself. Towards death. But the living are already there. To bear witness to life." As if they would. They shield their eyes from it, believe life to be static. Constant. Stable rather than entropic.

"As Creation loses to the Void, inch by inch... they become particle to a dying whole. Do you understand? This is what I am here for. The point of rupture... cataclysmic decay." He has tried his very best to explain, but he knows already the battle for understanding is lost. It's a bitter feeling, sour. But also... freeing.

If this man doesn't want to understand, then he never will.