;open starter—❝sentimental❞
Dr. Ian Malcolm had never considered himself a sentimental man. If he dwelled on the past, it was exclusively for the purpose of learning, of assessing where previous events had gone wrong in order to adjust his reasoning, his behaviour going forward. This could be considered evolution in itself, albeit on a comparatively microscopic scale. So it was that the tenured academic found himself making his way up the fire escape of his New York apartment towards the roof, telling himself it wasn’t sentimentality that drove his actions, that guided his hand along the metal railing, and his uncertain footsteps up the weathered steps. It was chaos theory, pure and simple. After all, no one—not even he himself—could have predicted that, upon awaking from another nightmare, he would get dressed and clamber out of his kitchen window into the cool night air, without any of his usual reverence for the virtues of logic and common sense. The view was stunning, he had to admit, as he reached the top, eyes drifting over the sea of moving lights. If only those same, picturesque lights weren’t accompanied by so much noise, he thought wistfully as he sat down, making sure he was a reasonable distance away from the edge. Despite his sudden, unprecedented desire for a beautiful spot to contemplate, Dr. Ian Malcolm had no intention of testing the whims of chance. As he sat down, he had to steady himself against the fire escape’s railing. A groan escaped him. His leg still ached upon too much exertion, and in time with the ache came the familiar flood of images, blurred around the edges but accompanied by raw emotions which were still as vivid as ever. It was these same images, of course, which had robbed him of his sleep moments prior, and by extension had set off the chain of unlikely events which led to him sitting precariously, and more importantly uncomfortably, atop his apartment building. The butterfly effect in action, he thought with a hint of satisfaction. How satisfying it would be to have such a perfect illustration of it in the palm of his hand... if only he had someone to explain it to.
