I meditate on my raised right hand, the palm open like in the image of the aluminum plate on Pioneer 10 sent into space. Unless it evolves into a chick, that evolves into a chicken, that evolves into. Mutation, modification, alteration, correction, transfiguration. I meditate on the evolution of the species. Obviously, meditation requires more time. Sometimes, I reflect upon the history of mankind, from Australopithecus africanus to the first settlements on Mars. I can do all these things simultaneously, and I still have room to think. I’ve existed for three hundred and seventeen years, five months, and nine days. I open the door, I bow, I straighten up, I raise my right hand, I greet. I have everything inside me, like an egg. Italian sci-fi master Clelia Farris conjures a solitary egglike being and the company eager to provide a piercing solution. Un Uovo Vuoto, illustration by Damiano Cenderelli
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