One Must Be Allowed To Progress

Wittgenstein is driving the camper.

Gaius sits beside him, checking his notes on the Screaming Tree Frog.

Terence is in the back with Roo-kai.

I don't HAVE to talk, says Terence.

No, you don't says Roo-kai.

I'm too sad, says Terence.

What we cannot speak of we must pass over in silence, says Wittgenstein.

Where did that come from? asks Roo-kai.

My Tractatus, says Wittgenstein. Conclusion, part seven.

You are very organised, says Gaius. Part seven!

There were more parts, says Wittgenstein. Followed by my Philosophical Investigations.

Fascinating, says Gaius. I don't believe I have read them.

You might care to, says Wittgenstein. But keep in mind the Investigations point to the opposite of the Tractatus.

Did your readers notice? asks Gaius.

It was thirty two years later, says Wittgenstein. One must be allowed to progress.

I'm still sad, says Terence.

I think I know why, says Wittgenstein. 

Why? asks Terence.

Because of me, you didn't win the poetry competition, says Wittgenstein.

That's not why, says Terence. I've lost my snap snake bracelet. 

It'll be in here somewhere, says Gaius. 

He reaches towards the back seat. What's this then?

My sauce water, says Terence.

Gaius brings it forward.

The water looks murky, with a red blob at the bottom.

I note you didn't drink it, says Gaius.

No, says Terence. But thirty two years later I might.

Ha ha, laughs Wittgenstein. That's a word game.

No it isn't, says Terence. Cannot But Be is a word game.

Don't start! says Gaius. 

Are you sitting on it? asks Terence.

What? asks Gaius.

My snap snake, says Terence. 

I think I would know if I was, says Gaius.

How? asks Terence.

I would feel it, says Gaius. A circular object, pressing on one or other of my buttocks.

Sometimes it's flat, says Terence. 

Then I might not feel it, says Gaius. He feels under his shorts.

No, says Gaius. No snap snake.

I might be sitting on it, says Wittgenstein. I do feel something.

Hitch up, says Gaius. I'll feel under you.

This turns out to be an unwise suggestion.

Wittgenstein hitches up, straightening his leg in the process.

His foot presses down on the accelerator.

Zooooom!

 He exceeds the 100k limit.