Möbius strip

On the asset side, he remembered his name, Donald Johnson.

Right now, he was on nature's Möbius strip on the planet Marlock.

There was some man he had been following.

The rest was on the liability side of his balance sheet.

When the second robbery occurred, they closed in.

The only thing that saved me was the fact that tests proved my memory was really gone, and that I had told the truth as I knew it.

From the few scraps of information I retained about being out on the Möbius strip, they and I arrived at the theory I mentioned a short time ago.

I was sent back here to wait.

Friday, June 11th.

At three years of age, a little girl shouldn't have enough functioning intelligence to cut out and paste together a Möbius strip.

Or, if she did it by accident, she surely shouldn't have enough reasoning ability to pick up one of her crayons and carefully trace the continuous line to prove it only had one surface.

And if by some strange coincidence she did, and it was still just an accident, how can I account for this generally active daughter of mine, and I do mean active, sitting for a solid half hour with her chin cupped in her hand, staring off into space, thinking with such concentration that it was almost painful to watch? I was in my reading chair, going over some work.

I must know.

In the meantime, I must treat it casually.

That's called the Möbius strip, Star.

I interrupted her thoughts.

And there's a single line, but again, it's one line that wraps around three times.

So it's similar to a Mobius strip, which has one side, but in three-dimensional space.

If you follow along the Mobius strip, you end up going around the whole thing, both sides over and over again.

It's a more advanced version of that.

And so again, it could also be trying to like a nod to the sort of geometry or mathematics of the multiverse, this idea of like, you can go as far as you want, but eventually you'll come back to where you began.

Friday, June 11th.

At three years of age, a little girl shouldn't have enough functioning intelligence to cut out and paste together a Möbius strip.

Or, if she did it by accident, she surely shouldn't have enough reasoning ability to pick up one of her crayons and carefully trace the continuous line to prove it only had one surface.

And if by some strange coincidence she did, and it was still just an accident, how can I account for this generally active daughter of mine, and I do mean active, sitting for a solid half hour with her chin cupped in her hand, staring off into space, thinking with such concentration that it was almost painful to watch? I was in my reading chair, going over some work.

I must know.

In the meantime, I must treat it casually.

That's called the Möbius strip, Star, I interrupted her thoughts.

She came out of her reverie with a start.