Sentence The Sevenhundredandtwentyfirst

'So, here and now, on the 8th day of May in the Year of Our Lord 2037, for all who are au courant with my story so far, it is perhaps time to ask you to hypostatize a Truth: that all time is simultaneous; the Past and Future are always with us, just a hair's breadth away – reach out and you can both touch and be touched by all time; this knowledge is no panacea, but it may act like a macron, to give shade to a word, add some sense to an utterance, assist in differentiation, as a pinch of salt may add flavour to a dish . . . . .' and Little Levy Balquhidder looked over his shoulder as if to check whether he was being observed, if anyone had succeeded in reaching his bedroom without being overheard; he lay in his cot and scrolled through the message which was from an unknown number, but it was from The Future! all the Worm-Holes he had discovered led from The Present to The Past and while he knew that his position in Space/Time was only his perception, indeed knew all about the simultaneity of Time (his Spirit had spent enough of it's existence in the company of The Creator to have written a Guide to the Opportunities of Space/Time for Dummies) it was strange that the sender of this Message should know of him and his Top Secret mobile phone, the one supplied to him by Jasmine Juniper-Green, unless? unless . . . . . unless it was a rebound, but who on Earth? so "Fuck Earth," he said – forgetting that the baby-monitor was beside the cot and his mum, Rilla, would be able to hear whatever sound he made – and tapped out a quick reply: "is that you columbine?" pressed send and waited!