The children of Time and Space had questions. These were about certain unknowns and uncertain knowns.
For example. Does this blind spot have to do with the invisible time in known spaces, or with the unseen spaces in measured time?
Well, one of us sighed. I guess you never really know your parents.
Space seemed to be always smoothing her voluminous skirts, welcoming us into her lap or brushing us off, laughing. When she stormed, she raged and we hid, but our shelters were only deeper folds of her.
Time was off somewhere. Running, she said. We wondered if he would come back, and she laughed a quake to cut the earth outside the window. When the dust settled, we would hide there, too.