It is nighttime, and I am dressed in something similar to a hazmat suit—maybe not as extreme?  I am waiting my chance to sneak into what looks like an industrial plant or some ‘facility.’  My point of entry will be a wide gate situated alongside a railroad track which runs parallel to the gate both inside and outside the high chain-link fence, topped by barbed wire.  There is real danger here. While making my way along the fence to reach the gate I would be vulnerable to a passing train since there is not enough room between the tracks and the fence on either side of the wide gate. The area is generally well lit; however, there are many areas of shadow since the illumination’s source consists of just a few very bright lights on traditional light poles.  Additionally, there is a fog moving into the area. It originates at the river which runs all along the back perimeter of this facility. When I see my chance—no one around and no trains approaching—I will make my move and enter this facility.

After a few moments of fantasizing about close brushes with oncoming trains I see my chance and hot foot it into the restricted area. As I enter the gate my perspective abruptly switches from first person to that of a spectator.  The man in the astronaut-like white (moon-walker?) garb proceeds across the grounds of the area towards the river. The fog is still only patchy and light, and the lighting remains ‘industrial’ with the aforementioned shadowy areas.

At this juncture, there are multiple switches in point of view—so many switches from first to third person that there is a sense of “both at the same time.” What I am doing as this switching event occurs is becoming aware that there is something truly strange underfoot. I am walking on a black surface which, because of its felt consistency, seems crusty, delicate, and possibly prone to fracturing and letting me fall through.  “Eggshells, black eggshells, yes.”  Underneath this black crusty surface — somehow, I know is a pure white substance; the crusty black is merely a thin surface phenomenon.  “Yes,” I think. “This surface is just like a toasted/burnt marshmallow.  I would hate to break through.”

A further survey of the area reveals some seriously bizarre topographical features.  There is a very large area with this black surface, maybe a couple of acres. The lighting from the industrial scaffolds and towers and poles just faintly illuminates this area; and this, coupled with the slowly increasing fog activity gives the whole landscape an eerie look and feel. My ‘problems’ began here.

In first person I noticed that the large crusty black area was divided into sections or demarcated regions by small lines or slight raised ridges resembling the seams of a baseball, and that where the seams intersected there were ‘nodes’— what seemed to be roundish areas ….. little bubbles or knobs of light. My problem was that no matter how hard I tried I was unable to look ‘up close’ in the first person— my eyes just seemed to cross, blurring my vision. In the third person I could look and stare and see as clearly as possible from that vantage point which was a foot or so from the “computer screen” (as if I were monitoring the action from “mission control”), but I could not invade the territory of the first-person “astronaut.”

I wanted to know more about the surface and the seams and the ‘nodes.’  But how could I possibly find out more about the underlying white substance, or gain more information about the ‘seams’ or ‘nodes’ when I could only see this in the third person where the details were blurred? This question of being denied the first person perspective became my obsession rather than the nature and details of the bizarre landscape. And with this in mind I resumed my investigation just in time to notice, from the third person perspective, a new source of light.  In addition to the industrial lighting, the glow and faint light emitted from the nodes, and the pinpoint specks of light located irregularly along the ‘seams,’ there was a cloud of light surrounding the head and upper body of the astronaut. It was a bit faint; however, it clearly consisted of a cloud of particles of light. He seemed unaware of this mantle.

The end was quite unsatisfactory.  It was a repetitious questioning of how I could have known more than what was revealed.