{"id":98,"date":"2019-03-15T08:16:00","date_gmt":"2019-03-15T08:16:00","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.novelty-fiction.com\/gazette\/?p=98"},"modified":"2019-03-15T08:16:00","modified_gmt":"2019-03-15T08:16:00","slug":"w-e-the-sunset-point","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/novelty-fiction.com\/gazette\/w-e-the-sunset-point\/","title":{"rendered":"W.E. – The Sunset Point"},"content":{"rendered":"\n\t\t\t\t\n

Sunsets are golden everywhere, but the spectacular ones experienced from the \nterraces of Mr. Penditakis’ manor overlooking the Mediterranean are \nunparalleled. Some people claim that by design, humans can live almost anywhere \non Earth. This may well be true scientifically speaking, but anyone postulating \nthat all places are equally livable is either a fool or a liar. A single sunset \nexperienced at Mr. Kandrataki’s 3,600 square foot home will leave its indelible \nimprint on your soul. Once his limited hospitality wears out, you’ll depart \nthankful and irreversibly convinced that some places are indeed infinitely more \nlivable compared with others.
<\/p>\n\n\n\n

It sits up there on a high cliff, some 235 kilometers from Athens. Plutarch \nis widely rumored to have visited the area in his old age, when he needed a rest \nto finish one of his many books of philosophy, in which he supposedly was trying \nto splice hairs between the Platonic inner core beliefs that were native to him \nand some existentialistic nuances that were to him somewhat more alien, or novel \nat least. Verifying or disproving these rumors would require more digging than \ntime permits, but let’s assume for arguments sake that the renowned philosopher \ndid indeed spend some time here.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

From the impressive vantage point some 600 meters above sea level, \u200b \nPlutarch’s weary eyes would have followed the Sun moving ever so slowly across \nthe sky as the day was closing. This huge yellow ball would be emitting rays \nlong and strong enough to reflect endlessly on the wave-tops of the ocean, a \nbasin so deep in this area that its base color tilts towards blackish rather \nthan blue. These long rays, some clear white, others a muffled green, would \nliterally dance across the water’s surface, reflecting unpredictably in all \ndirections, randomly creating beams that went straight upward as if returned \nfrom some invisible mirror.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

As the Sun started caving in to the curving of Earth, Plutarch would have \nseen its color shift gradually from yellow to a shamelessly delicious-looking \norange. At this point, he would need to release his excitement somehow, either \nby taking a long drink or by saying something to himself in a protracted moment \nof euphoria. Even a world-class philosopher could not hope to internalize his \nexcitement through an entire session at the Sunset Point.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"\"\/<\/figure>\n\n\n\n

\n\nSource: Author\/Fotograf: Manfred Werner\n\n\n\n<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Even my best friends regularly say that I’m taciturn, as they wonder openly \nwhether I’ve become that way by natural disposition or by choice.”You may laugh, \nbut seldom at other people’s jokes,” a friend once told me. “You may smile, but \nseldom in the situations where others expect you to. You may talk, but rarely \nsay much except to correct what you call their patently false assertions or \n‘unsubstantiated assumptions and beliefs.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Why would I even bother responding to that? I know who I am, and that’s good \nenough for me. My adversaries amongst archaeologists call me The Silent Oracle, \nbut their sarcasm is entirely lost on me. They know me not!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

For example, and this is no trivial matter, they have never seen me when I \nsit in one of the poolside lounge chairs on Mr. Penditakis’ stone terrace. \n
<\/p>\n\n\n\n

“Distinguished colleagues, nitpicking professors you! May I introduce you to \nlife? While you have your long noses buried in literature in the pedantic hope \nof finding some error or inconsistency in your colleagues’ writings, so that you \nmay publish another scientific article, I’m sitting all by myself right here \nhigh up in the mountains. See, Penditakis happens to be my friend, he actually \ncares for me and gobbled up uncritically every word I wrote about Plutarch’s \nalleged visit to these regions some 2,000 years ago. He invited me – me, me, me; \nnot you! – to ingest the juiciest Sunset you’ll never see. My palms are sore \nfrom rubbing them against one another in a satisfied gesture of gratitude and \ndelight. “<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I\u200b laugh internally at the thought of sending such a note to my colleagues \naround the world. Then the sunset kicks in, ever so slowly carrying my reluctant \nsoul with it across the horizon, my heart feeling the pinch with every flash \nreflected from the wave-tops. Plutarch was a wise man if he came here to \nexperience this, and he wisely chose not to intimate his innermost feelings to \nanyone.<\/p>\n\t\t","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Sunsets are golden everywhere, but the spectacular ones experienced from the terraces of Mr. Penditakis’ manor overlooking the Mediterranean are unparalleled. Some people claim that by design, humans can live almost anywhere on Earth. This may well be true scientifically speaking, but anyone postulating that all places are equally livable is either a fool or […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"site-container-style":"default","site-container-layout":"default","site-sidebar-layout":"default","site-transparent-header":"default","disable-article-header":"default","disable-site-header":"default","disable-site-footer":"default","disable-content-area-spacing":"default","footnotes":""},"categories":[7],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-98","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-quarterly-magazine"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/novelty-fiction.com\/gazette\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/98","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/novelty-fiction.com\/gazette\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/novelty-fiction.com\/gazette\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/novelty-fiction.com\/gazette\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/novelty-fiction.com\/gazette\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=98"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/novelty-fiction.com\/gazette\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/98\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/novelty-fiction.com\/gazette\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=98"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/novelty-fiction.com\/gazette\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=98"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/novelty-fiction.com\/gazette\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=98"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}