J. J. LOE


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FRAGMENTS
FROM
CHRONOS





“True life is elsewhere. We are not in the world”.
- Arthur Rimbaud




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*MOONLIGHT BOOKS – FORT WORTH, TX

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MMX



















“That archetypal world is the true Golden Age,
age of Kronos…”
– Plotinus























FOREWORD –

The stories and fragments found herein endeavor to
portray recurrent Time in a sort of literary Oroboros,
a tautological adumbration of the Eternal Return.
They employ ideas culled from a long history of
readings from a broad range of topics. If one finds
traces of the philosophy of Anaxagoras in the
fictional selections, then one can readily see that I am
an anachronistic scribbler of individual tastes. The
brevity of flash-fiction helps lend an air of mystery to
some of the ideas; as the hypothesis of chronesthesia,
which is an awareness of both past and future

happening concurrently with the present, aims to
provide their mechanics. Of the episodes, little needs
to be said here. In the story ‘The Philosopher’ it
might be made clear that the evolutionary lowering of
the larynx in the throat plays an important part in the
tale. Valentinus lends the title to the series ‘The Sea
and Silence,’ and Stanley Kubrick’s sentient HAL
9000 computer makes an appearance in the character
of the Avatar. The religious metaphors may or may
not be totally fictional. Artifice imbues them all with
the fancy of literature, a simple characterization
which I hope the reader will kindly grant them.
– J.J.L.








COTETS –

PLATO’S CAVE … 7
THE PHILOSOPHER … 8
THE AVATAR … 9
MUSIC OF THE SPHERES … 11
TIME AD AGAI … 13
THE APEIRO … 15
MEMOICS … 17

DIOGEES THE CYIC … 19
HOMER I THE GROVE … 20
THE WHITE FATHER … 22
LEVIATHA … 25
THE FOLIO … 28
THE SCRIPT … 30
ALMA … 31
DÉJÀ VU … 31
I RUIS … 34
THE SEA AD SILECE
I. By the time old Senora Silencio died … 35
II. As the century turned … 36
III. A mid-morning breeze … 37
IV. Despite their efforts, the leak …38
V. On the last day… 40
I THE ABBEY … 41
THE STRAGE SLEEP OF JOAH MELROSE … 46
THREE CIRCLES OF WATER … 51
THE STRAGE SLEEP OF ARTHUR CEREGATE … 54
THE PEARL … 58
THE CABIET OF ARTHUR CEREGATE … 59
MOOLIGHT BOOKS … 68
SCHOOLS OF THE ARCHIPELAGO … 74
IGHT I PURGATORY … 77
I A APPLE ORCHARD … 86



















FRAGMENTS FROM CHRONOS























PLATO’S CAVE –

A
s the months passed and the seasons turned, the ex-priest
grew to know the area and took a special liking to the
rugged character of the landscape. On occasion he would
spot an airplane high in the air, but he had no way of
knowing what such sightings meant. In time he saw no
more of them at all, and he had no way of knowing what
this might have meant. He was alone and the old world was
either dead or a new one was being born, he knew not
which.
He nonetheless counted his many blessings: he had shelter
in a cave; he had what clothes that he wore; and he could
gather enough food to feed yet another. But he had no
books that could be read; all those he found were not of his
tongue. If he had an other, perhaps he could have taught
him to read these books. But he had no other.
For hours though the ex-priest would fan through a half-
burned bible writ in Portuguese and recall in its pages those
passages he knew by heart. But he remembered so little by
heart as each new day was passing. In time however he had
learned a sort of Portuguese that he could read with, and so
he spent many more hours reading this half-Portuguese /

half-imaginary language.
Many years past and he remained. He would try to re-
member if he had ever seen an airplane in the air. He would
try to remember what had happened to the world. He now
scorned to cover his body and in the cave he lived a long
life, naked and warm and well sheltered. He knew now the
stories in his bible by heart, and so, he would often relive
its events aloud as he paced the floor of the cave as if with
an other.
At night he would build a fire in the mouth of the cave
which cast strange shadows upon the stony walls. It was in



these shadows he saw the workings of a world that he
would live aloud in his half-Portuguese / half-imaginary
language. The cycles of history all revolved therein.
And this was the new born world.



THE PHILOSOPHER –

T
hough certainly not a celebrity, the Philosopher had
gained a sort of local notoriety as well as a number of
influential devotees which he accumulated as his wits
gained him easy entry into exclusive circles. His followers
were few but well placed. His advice well paid for.
Most had originally thought him the son of one of the areas

lesser families, but by adulthood many understood him to
have arrived from the east. None were certain, nor knew
how it was to go about asking.
He was consulted often by the brightest minds of the
community on matters of general interest: architecture,
medicine, changes in the season, and most often dispute
resolution. He was big and squat and mostly round, the hair
on his crown a sterling grey. He appeared very strong but it
was his gentle nature that was most inspiring.
One day a grandmother arrived after a long night’s jour-
ney. She was distraught and agitated for the Philosopher. It
seemed that her daughter had given birth to a little girl that
was not perfect and instead of killing the child, as was the
custom, the mother had raised the infant away in secrecy.
Now an adolescent the child and her mother had recently
returned to their family and the community. Many there
were upset and feared the child an omen of great ill. The
grandmother sought assistance from the sage and urged that
he accompany her to investigate the matter. The Phil-