The characters were reverberating incoherently... pieces and pawns bouncing about like particles in a cloud chamber. It was difficult to make sense of anything. But a chequered moire pattern was re-emerging. Black and white at first, but colors would soon follow. The mirrors at both ends of this literary cavity were about to be aligned and the random energy of the characters would focus like a red hot laser beam, sharper than a scout knife, cutting to the chase.