[Yesterday was the first day of the Omer]
Discipline within Kindness
Sohu was, as always, studying. And Uriel was… helping her?, in a sense that probably involved three qualifying footnotes and a question mark.
“WHAT PARALLEL STRUCTURES APPEAR IN THIS SENTENCE?”
“Okay, the word for ‘virginity’ here appears else, referring specifically to virginity from sex with women, or possibly specifically lesbian virginity? But regardless is rather specific to humans, but this is describing an electron. That mirrors the bit back in Jezuboad 7 where humans are deconstructed and described only according to basic mechano-divine equations, a parallel which mirrors that one part of Kohelet…”
“YOU’RE MISSING SOMETHING. REMEMBER THAT EVERYTHING IS CONSTRUCTED BASED ON ADAM KADMON.”
“Um…” Sohu blinked a bit, and yawned, “using the extended gematriya system developed in Jezuboad 2 we can derive the fourfold vector calculus formulation of Maxwell’s Equations? ‘Electron’ is mentioned seven times, for the seven lower Sephirot and the sevenfold symmetry and topically to the seven flavors of quark?… I think I can find which corresponds to which by the surrounding words…”
Sohu blinked a few times more. “No. wait, there are only six… Um, um…?”
She stared at the text. The words seemed to swim. “Help?”
Uriel waved his hands, and the sky quickly faded through color changes vaguely approximating a sunset filtered through a hurricane, in an entirely unconvincing way.
“IT IS NIGHT TIME NOW AND TIME FOR YOU TO SLEEP.”
“But…”
The stars came out, looking rather too close by to be the actual stars, which were anyways usually covered by the clouds and outshone by Uriel’s brilliance, except when they were doing astronomy or astrology.
“SLEEP.”
Sohu sighed and moved to change into pajamas and brush her teeth.
She made it halfway to the spring which served as her sink, before lightly collapsing on a nearby rock.
Uriel carefully picked Sohu up in his arms, that had flung planets and stellar debris across the universe. Applying a force thousands of times smaller than that with which he was currently reshaping the mid-Atlantic ridge, he carried her and, gently, laid her down on her bed.
Hands that regularly tore apart uranium atoms within the Earth’s surface carefully pulled the blankets up over the sleeping child. Fingers that daily restarted the fusion in the Sun tucked her in – tightly, but not too tightly.
Withholding strength enough to maintain the universe, he ruffled the hair of the sleeping child. And in a voice that echoed threefold throughout all of creation, he whispered,
“(THERE ARE, IN FACT, SEVEN FLAVORS, BUT WE HAVEN’T GOTTEN THERE YET.)”
“(GOODNIGHT, LITTLE SOHU. GOODNIGHT.)”