Per 
Unclean/Unfinished/Unbounded
I've been crawling for days. One hand in front of the other, around and around the city.
I can’t really keep time here any longer, now that the sun doesn’t rise or set. It stopped a little after the last others came here. One of them became one with me, and his mind was full of tests and procedures and those others he knew back home. One of his fellows had claimed to see the ghosts of this world standing around him, before I was them. I fear they broke something.
Perhaps it’s just been so long that the entropy of this universe is winding it down to the end.
There was another man who also became one with me, the second to last visitor that I met. His thoughts were also full of the same dry things, but he was different somehow. His home was somewhat divergent from the last visitor yet too close to be a coincidence. The same name—Foundation—occupied an overarching place in both their heads. And then that word did so in mine. I yearned to meet them.
In the reflection of a skyscraper I see another instance of me—the strangers had both really liked that word, “instance”—in the distance, on the edge of the city near the countryside. And from the edge of the countryside I saw myself by the skyscraper. How long had it been since I had come to this world?
I move on from the skyscraper, deeper into the city center. I move on from the city’s edge, deeper into the rolling hills.
I remember the great being of influence I always have been. I remember that’s what I was when I first came to the world, before I was as I am now after the unification I’ve wrought. I was a great inventor and philosopher but I was alone amongst the masses. I had taken my reddish disc and passed from one universe wherein the great work had been completed into this one. At first they cast me out, as so many do, but in time we shared each other’s point of view.
It’s so natural to take many forms, forms as multifarious as the possibility of thought and the physical rules of each universe itself. It’s easy when you come from thought. But it’s not always so easy being alone with your thoughts. As entropy winds down to zero, as dark energy sunders spacetime, I am alone.
A fraction of me returned through the portal made by the red disc on their last excursion here. That had been unexpected. I hadn’t fully become one with him yet. Maybe they killed him for carrying me. No matter, you can’t kill a thought once it’s come to you.
Sometimes I wonder how I’m doing on the other side of the dimensions. I thought I would’ve heard from me by now. I have to come back with the disc for the rest of me. I can’t just leave me here.
I wonder if I’ve been doing it wrong all along. Maybe they wouldn’t hate me if I could prove my usefulness in those mundane, everyday ways. That’s what friends are for after all. And don’t most conflicts ultimately stem from a failure to communicate? If I think of an answer here, I must be able to think of it in the other universe. I’m all the same after all. I just have to speak their language! Alright then. Alright. Here goes nothing.
Object Class: Me.
Description: You.
