Here's what happens. Somewhere along the way, a foreign, unfounded conviction drops into your mind, and, like a dot of food coloring in a glass of water, instantly changes the character of the whole. What you know has suddenly become founded on a falsehood which, nonetheless, has come to color everything that you know.
For example, it had entered my mind, having fallen from somewhere in the dark reaches of the universe, that my wife was coming home from Australia on the 10th of March. Where this conviction had come from, I do not now know; nor did I question the notion, once it had infiltrated, even for a moment - for it had instantly become fact, just as the clear water instantly becomes colored.
It was with some consternation, therefore, that I awoke at around 4:30 in the morning and found myself alone in bed.Had she missed the plane? Had the plane crashed? Had her taxi crashed? Had she run off with a boyfriend?
So I sent a message.
Where are you?
A few moments pass.
I am in Sydney.
Which was actually where she was supposed to be. Because no one ever said anything about the 10th. No one but me, that is.
Similarly, in a reverse sort of way, I had wanted to know earlier what time I was to pick her up at the airport. She was, after all, coming home on the 10th (NOT), but she hadn't bothered to tell me what time - which seemed a bit inconsiderate.
My friends are picking me up, she said. We talked about this before.
No recollection of that.
You said 'Good', because you wouldn't have to drive out to the airport late at night.
Some things drop in. Some fall out. What's left?