It wasn’t until past nine in the evening that Frankie was able to sit down at her laptop and concentrate on the report. It often happened that way. During the day concentration was hard to come by and she felt the pull of the thousands of minds around her and that she was connected to across the globe in one way or another. Birds migrated along pathways followed for millennia by a process of quantum entanglement. Blue light exciting electrons in the cyptochrome of their eyes. Photons splitting entangled pairs of electrons creating a palette of chemical reactions that show them the way.
Frankie felt she was submerged in a sea of dark matter that reacted in some similar way to the birds eyes. Forces and reactions occurring at the level that humans can’t currently measure. Quantum entanglements that tied her to the world around her that excited her mind when energies were high and sapped her ability to focus and concentrate. It was only in the calm of darkness, when the photons were hitting the cyptochrome that the offsets subsided and she found her path.
She turned her head to the right, took a deep breath in through her nose, exhaled through her mouth as she turned her head back to the left. Then in on the left, out to the right. Three cycles.
Then the truth began to be revealed through her fingertips. Words flew onto the screen. The patterns of use and abuse in the Arkhara wetlands documented. The degradation that opened the door to the speading pandemic connected through the long saga of man exploiting the beautiful web of life that had flourished before his rise. The ongoing blindness.
It was all clear.