Tossed in a twisting storm of irrational illusion, I suddenly caught sight of a stationary image in the middle distance. I could not help but doubt, and strongly, my brain's interpretation of whatever trick of space or time had brought this singular manifestation into subjective existence before me, but after long observation during which I could detect no inconsistency, I allowed myself an embryonic hope that here, perhaps, was some architectural or geological feature which owed its existence to the same framework of physical laws as myself.
Moving closer but cautiously, I struggled to penetrate the densely enveloping mist, eager for some confirmation of my hopes.
As gradually the image took on definition and its form stabilized, I saw that it was a man, rather than a topological feature. At least, it had the shape of a man. More did it resemble a statue, yet an apparently living one. It seemed real enough, possessed those minute characters that living men exhibit, but made neither sound nor movement.
I paused, uncertain of the reaction which the anthropomorph had engendered in me. Gathering after a few moments what meager intellectual resources and courage I was able to muster, I spoke in greeting. No reply nor even barest acknowledgment was forthcoming, in keeping with the inanimation so far exhibited.
I stepped yet nearer; boldly I examined the face, specifically the eyes, for evidence of any deeply resident awareness. Although I thought that I could detect a transient aqueous glint, my scrutiny proved otherwise fruitless. It was like looking into a mirror and seeing someone else's face.
Here, inarguably, was something very like a man, yet some quality inherent in this hominid lent the distinct impression of mere distant relation. I felt perhaps as a domestic dog might feel, granted human cognition, as it gazed upon a dire wolf. Perhaps this was the future of my species. Perhaps it was a department store mannikin. Perhaps they were one and the same.
What is it that separates us from our cultural and taxonomic predecessors? Cranial capacity, stance, social interactions, food-gathering methodology, weapons technology, personal hygiene, television programming choices? Are these tangible, measurable attributes the sum total of our claim to evolutionary superiority? Or is it perhaps our very ability to pose such questions that sets us apart, as a species? Certainly our capacity for putting pen to paper on this subject seems inexhaustible.
These philosophical meanderings led me eventually back to the figure poised in wild inaction before me, and I decided to push for some sort of response from it in acknowledgment of its (or my own) existence.