Even an absence can stimulate. I looked up and the window was black. How curious. I stared at the window wondering, why were there no lights? At this time of the evening, it's always a river of white.
I looked around. The house was as it always was. The lights were on, the rooms well-lit. There was a curious silence. Should anyone else be in the house with me? I wasn’t sure.
I was now getting somewhat alarmed, something was clearly not right. I believe the feeling is known as dissociation, reminding me of Kafka, one of my favourite authors. But I didn’t think I was dreaming.
Absurd thoughts came to me. Perhaps I had lived my whole life in a virtual environment. Perhaps this was a ‘glitch in the matrix’, like when that cat reappeared in the film. You blink, you expect reality to come back, but somehow it didn’t. I seemed to be the sole inhabitant of a familiar, well-lighted, but wholly empty world, and I couldn’t quite remember how it had ever been different. I was getting badly frightened.
It’s funny, isn’t it. The basis of this conclusion is Descartes: “I think, therefore I am”. He never realised the elasticity of ‘am’. When I did philosophy at Warwick, I believe I encountered a refutation of Descartes’ argument somewhere.
Now, if only I could recall it, I’d be out of here.”