The other day my gaze fell upon the above graffiti and the sentence scrawled on the wall of a building: ” “I swear there are diamonds…hundreds of them…everywhere.”
That line could have been lifted straight from the book I’m reading, J.G. Ballard’s “The Crystal World,” in which the west African jungle starts to crystallise as trees metamorphose into enormous jewels and crocodiles encased in second glittering skins lurch down the river.
“The forest is the most beautiful in Africa, a house of jewels,” says a character in the book. “The light touches everything with diamonds and sapphires.”
The explanation for the phenomenon is a “leaking of time,” which I’ve yet to have fully explained in the book, but the coincidence of that graffiti was a reminder of the leaking and mixing of time that happens within our own small worlds.