"Your words, linger, for about a second. They then, falter, dropping. They do not resound into space. I can't see them echoing from my window; they cast no great entrance, no chance looks from the masses, no media news coverage.

Thoughts, however, thoughts, and some rare words, spoken in the exact tone, pitch, and with precise volume, with sincerity, resound forever. Thoughts, ideas, intangible bits of matter, resounding forever and ever and ever, audible to the trained ear. Imagine! Imagine the chaos, no-- imagine the beauty, that would follow."

The man turned away then, lost in thought. She could see his wrinkled arm on the armrest of his cozy chair. She could see the dust building on his slippers. He had been in this chair, thinking this concept through, for quite some time.

She offered him a fourth cup of coffee, and he politely declined, reasoning that he didn't trust the coffee beans these days. She exhaled, trying to remember why she'd come.

"This man could be the future. He could be the breakthrough we've been looking for. Imagine the furtherment of psychology this man could bring about. The furtherment of literature, of movies, books, conversation, nothing would be the same! Of course-- he is probably just a scam. But, these things have been right before. And if there is anything this man has to say or teach us about, we will be the first to discover him."