Explanation

Not sure if I will stay awake long enough to post story tonight - the charm of posting only by iPhone is beginning to wear thin. But I hate to let the day go by without posting anything, so I thought I'd explain the name. So here goes: I'm a big fan of Neon Genesis Evangelion. Ok, that didn't actually take long. But for those of you who are unfamiliar with it, perhaps a little more explanation is in order. The human instrumentality project was the big secret goal behind the creation of the Evas (um, big robots of varying degrees of psychological stability piloted by kids - didn't say anime always makes a lot of sense, but then, many things don't, and are fun nonetheless). Eventually, instrumentality caused all the world's consciousnesses to blend into one, as the barriers between people dissolved (at least until Rei Ayanami stepped in and saved the day, but that's another story for another time). So, my calling my blog "Instrumentality Project" came out of my thinking about the Internet, and blogging in particular, as a less lethal H.I.P. Like the original, it breaks down the barriers between people and gives you a glimpse into someone else's life, someone else's head, if only for a few minutes. Besides which, I enjoy paying tribute to Evangelion, on account of its general awesomeness.

And now, because I hate to leave you kids without a bedtime story:

Quintessence, Part 4

It felt like walking under a sprinkler. All around was warm and wet, and somehow tingly. It was a shock to the system, every part of her suspended, submerged...and then it was over, and she was dry, and the field looked the same. Or almost the same. There had been a group of kids playing Frisbee by the volleyball net, about five or six of them, but they had disappeared, utterly. How much time had passed?, thought Tessa. Enough time for them to pack up and leave without her noticing? If she had been daydreaming, they could have slipped away. 12:17, said her watch. It had been 12:03 the last time she looked at it. Possible yes, but was it probable? With the noise they were making, she should have noticed their departure. And it was so still, so terribly still. Expectant.
She started to walk through the cool grass, uncertain of what lay ahead. She wanted to stay where she was, savor the moment, but she was equally eager to find out – she was through the looking glass now. What lay on the other side?
For some reason she wasn't very eager to find out. It had been an adventure up to this point. But what if this was a parallel dimension filled with purple aliens with long tentacled heads, eyeballs on the end of each spindly, slimy tentacle?
Ten minutes later, the world had failed to yield any slimy-tentacled inhabitants. In fact, it looked just the same as it had when she had sat down to eat lunch.

She got up, and walked back toward the school building, noticing as she did so the complete absence of other students. Or teachers. Or anybody. There were no cars in the parking lot. After a brief struggle, curiosity won out against fear of the unknown, and Tessa continued past the front of the school, through the empty parking lot, into the streets beyond. The town was just as empty. There were no cars, no people. The air was full of stillness. She thought about saying something like, “Hello?”, but decided that if there were people here, walking around calling out for them would make her look utterly ridiculous. So she walked. And walked. Not a soul remained. Everyone had vanished. Houses were still standing. The coffee shop message board read 'Special of the Day – Turkey Club and Chips $5.95, but there was no one to buy the turkey and no one to sell it. 'Somewhere a sign ought to swing in the breeze, or an abandoned swing in a park. Put the right post-apocalyptic movie stamp on it'. The thought almost made her smile, but it was really too eerie. What if there had been a horrible apocalypse of some kind? Was she next for a mysterious plague? But she didn't think so. Piles of dead bodies were also notably absent. Tired of running scenarios
through her mind, and no closer to an answer, she decided to take advantage of the situation as it had presented itself. She walked into the Java Hut and up to the counter. “Hello?” she called, just in case. But of course, nobody answered. Satisfied, she walked around the counter. The food was still there. Shrugging, Tessa considered the innate advantages of being the only survivor in a post-apocalyptic scenario. She stepped around the counter, wondering just how hard it would be to work the cappuccino machine.